L'hiver de la Lune Solitaire
by Freaky Krazer
Summary: A tale of glory and romance. Rin, a woman of lies and deceit, tells her story of love and how she achieved a life of glamor and prosperity. With a devious plot, she shares how she captured the heart of one of the most powerful man in the world.
1. Daedalus and his Imperfect Wings of Wax

**Author's Note:** Yay a new fic from me. I plan this to be a short story (since it just came from sudden… not to mention fleeting… inspiration). I will update my other story, Succession of Witches, soon enough it's just I have trouble with the plot. **Yes I changed my pen name.** I change it often. For those of you who don't know, the chapter title is from the Greek Mythology of the famous (and not to mention genius) architect, Daedalus and his attempt to flee imprisoned life in Crete with his son, Icarus. Here goes.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Daedalus and His Imperfect Wings of Wax**

For as long as I can remember, my troubled mind has the tendency to itch caused by the sight of imperfection. If the imperfection stays imperfect, then I will drown in my paranoia of making my next step, an imperfect one. Perhaps this is the reason why I married my husband, if not out of love. If that was so, then my marriage is contradictory for at times our matrimonial relationship is often drenched with imperfection, and sometimes wears the façade of perfection; which is why it's safe to say, meeting Sesshoumaru could be the best and worst day of my life. Obviously, one would say, "Then which one is it? Best and worst are antonyms! They are incompatible words!" Unfortunately and fortunately, one could only taste the bittersweet freedom he has given me… only to later sense the cruel after-taste of some vicious poison. If it weren't for his actions, I would not have transformed from a useless peasant into an idol of perfection.

After looking with much nostalgia at my past, I've concluded that if it weren't for him, maybe I wouldn't have flown above such a vast and majestic ocean as Daedalus had with his wings of wax. No… wait… Maybe I should be Icarus, for it was Sesshoumaru who fashioned such imperfect wings. It was he who caused my escape and downfall to the bottomless depths of … what I would call… the lowest and cruelest points of my life.

* * *

_**Paris, France**_

_**Winter**_

"STEP RIGHT UP, LADIES AND GENTS!" The enthusiastic announcer exclaimed through the horde of children and young adults, "Down here… you'll witness an angel born from the darkest corners of the underworld! A perilous beauty who roamed the vast lands of Asia accompanied by her haunted melody! Ladies and gents! I present to you…"

Her name, her talent, her deformity… I couldn't hear. Those frightening facts were engulfed by the waves of laughter and chants caused by the enticed crowd. While they cheered at the vulgar shape of her body yet enchantingly beautiful features of exotic Eastern her face, I gazed nonchalantly. This woman was a result of God's wrath, and in my head I cried at the imperfection and my inability… no… the impossibility of correcting this permanent hideousness.

The woman had six arms, three on one side and three on the other. Such vile display of worldly horrors was disgusting. Amidst the noisy crowd, she erected a bulky and rather large instrument sitting next to her on the state. It was a cello. While doing so with two arms, the other four set up a music stand, arranging pieces of music for her to perform (an act I found peculiar). Finished with her preparations, she slyly grinned at the crowd as she was positioned to play, waiting for utter silence to commence her show.

As if hypnotized, the crowd obeyed, forgetting how amused they were of her rather conspicuous imperfection. In an instant, she forced her bow across the silver strings of her cello, creating a peaceful yet hauntingly sorrowful sound. The excitement drained from everyone's faces. All happiness evanesced as she began to sing along with such a ravenous tone for an even sadder yet aggressive sound.

"_Here's a sad story about a deer and a man…"_

Her voice trapped us in the core of her music. Like a spider weaving its web, us insects are entangled on her silver threads.

"_A romantic scene from a lullaby. In a clearing green, where his eyes met mine.  
I was frozen motion. Oh! His bow was raised. Then the fleeting notion-that my life he'd save."_

We were devoured by a hunter's kiss.

"_But I saw it coming, flying through the air. Feathered backside humming. Miss me, hit me where…Where it will only hurt me, not a mortal wound. Leave me lying dirty, someone would find me soon."_

Moment by moment, the horde of children began to weep not of sympathy with the sadness but of horror. The song shattered their view of reality as it began to mold the thought of imperfection in their infant minds.

"_My life is not mine.  
Like a dog or a wife.  
He has taken his time.  
He has taken my life."_

Death was a concept evaded by carnivals, events/areas supposed to be drenched with life and joy. How could they allow this pitiful creature to produce such a melancholic song?

"_I could see the steaming of his cloudy breath. No, I was not dreaming.  
I was next to death. As I lay there twitching, then my legs he tied. There was nothing missing on the day I died."_

As if the deathly spell was broken, the adults began to yell shouts of disapproval. "Boos" and other negative chants were thrown everywhere. However, the freak continued with her morbid song.

"_I have never felt like this before.  
Felt my body sinking to the grassy floor  
No, I have never known a love like this.  
Felt the flaming arrows of the Hunter's Kiss."_

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The night after the carnival incident, I was mesmerized by the song. Its words etched themselves in my mind, torturing me with their sense of defeat and anguish. Sitting there with the bowl of despicable (and untouched) oatmeal, I stared lazily across the barren and lifeless lot where the carnival took place. My life as it was situated was entirely imperfect. That reality seemed to have placed a degrading feeling in my stomach.

I was sitting on a perfectly square bench, its edges and shape precisely similar with my untouched bowl of oatmeal. I neatly placed the bowl on my lap, careful not to crease or cause folds on my peasant skirt. I clung to my wool coat, which tediously and painstakingly draped around my emaciated frame as I felt the chill of a winter breeze.

"Now where was mademoiselle last night?" inquired my obnoxious "care taker", his dialogue was heavy with a French accent. He ran the carnival and owned the property where it took place. He is in charge of "taking care" of the "freaks" he exhibits and the maintenance of the disastrous rides placed here and there. Recently, I had made a deal with him that if he had given me shelter, I will work in exchange. It was a bargain which I didn't keep my part of. "Zut! Avant soir, j'ai entendu tu as regardé Arachnid!"

My obnoxious care taker failed to remember that I, an orphaned Japanese immigrant, wasn't fluent in French. As a result, I responded with the usual, "Je regrette."

His expression boiled with immense anger as his face wrinkled at my sight as his putrid breath created steam in the cold air. He raised his hand in the air while grabbing my wrist on the other, ready to reprimand my foolishness.

"Pardon, monsieur…" interrupted a voice. I turned to look beside us to see a weary Arachid, her body concealed by a trench coat (along with her excess supply of arms) and a shawl. "I can't help but notice, le Care Taker is beating on a girl."

"What are you up to, you freak?!" He retorted with saliva flying in the air. "Don't think I have not heard of your foolishness last night!"

"I will gladly accept punishment later, after I do my morning shopping. But it seems this girl is being bothersome to you. Would you like me to relieve you of her presence while she accompanies me?"

One would think that a man such as he would never allow such thing to pass. Allowing me to accompany her means allowing himself to forget about punishing me in the first place. Instead of bluntly rejecting her with a scowl coupled with shouts, he spat on the ground, release his hold of me, and stomped away.

Arachnid smiled and nodded to me to follow her.

My time with this young woman, who appears normal if she wears garments which conceal her crude imperfection, was actually quite enjoyable. Without the arms, she was far from being repulsive and closer to being beautiful. While she softly held onto my head, I looked up to her, studying her smiling face. Her skin was porcelain, like the pale clay made of the dolls which come from a familiar country in my childhood. She had loose raven locks which fell on her temples as the remainder of her silky hair was held in a bun. Out of curiosity, I attempted with a perfect French accent a question of her origin, "Etes-vous japonaise?"

"Hai, I think you are too?" She replied with my language. Arachnid seemed to be delighted by our similarity. Forgetting all my previous thoughts and impressions of her, I nodded my head. Her kindness was like the sun. I've been covered by these winter clouds for so long, that feeling her radiant smile made me feel so secure once more. It made me forget that I was imperfect… that everything was imperfect.

"I'm a Japanese immigrant. I came about two months ago. Hajimemashte, I'm Rin!"

For about a while, we carried a conversation which regarded our past. Walking the ancient and stunning streets of Paris, we chatted of our lives (mostly about mine) as we made few purchases at the open-air food market.

"Bonjour mademoiselle Sara," greeted the corpulent fruit vendor. His meaty cheeks widened a smile for us. "And who is our little guest?" He lowered his head from his stand to peer at me. "Ah she is a pretty girl! Très jolie! Could she be your sister?"

Arachnid… no Sara (as I now learned is her real name) chuckled at his statement as she answered in French. "I wish! She is an acquaintance of mine. Her name is Rin. She recently came from Japan."

I bowed my head in the traditional Japanese greeting and said, "Bonjour monsieur. Je m'appelle Rin. Comment çava?" I almost stammered at my greeting, but I had hoped it was almost perfect.

The jolly man bellowed with amused laughter. "Here, an apple. Take it as a gift. Welcome to Paris, mademoiselle."

Was it coincidence? Was it serendipity? Was it the tides of fate? I didn't know. But back then it didn't matter. Ever since that instant, a handful of events were triggered. You could say it was point in which I departed my jail and flew where the winds would take me. During that solemn winter day, I toured part of Old Paris and the history engraved in its streets with Sara by my side. In a way she had become my sister and wove herself a thread which tangled with my life. Maybe she was Daedalus who fashioned my wings and Sesshoumaru was the ocean who embraced my fall and later used it to drown me in his world.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I dashed past the townsmen along the clogged streets of Paris. It's once glamorous life is now being an obstacle for my errand, which was to buy a new set of strings for Sara's cello. Instead of purchasing from nearby music stores, she had instructed me to make my purchase in a store called, "La Musique de Jean-Marc." The owner, being rumored to be a senile old man yet a musical prodigy who sold valuable instruments and their accessories for reasonable prices, built his shop across the famous river of La Seine where one would hope to find the famous landmarks: la Tour de Eiffel, Notre Dame, Jardin du Luxembourg, and etc.

Crossing the brick bridge, I witnessed the beauty of the historic Seine. It was a river flowing with life and commerce where the very heart of Paris was founded. On the surface of its calm and surging waters… ferries, love boats, trading ships, and other sorts alike gently rowed themselves across and back. It was another scene which I found perfect, and knowing it was perfect pleased me.

Walking my way to the opposite bank, I decided to ask for more helpful directions. A tall man hidden stood out like a sore thumb. But it was not his dangerous height which irritated my brain. It was his conspicuous silver hair that was tamed by what would look like a hair tie… probably a foreigner. He was conversing with what looked like a tradesman next to a store.

"Excusez-moi, monsieur…" I said, poking his gigantic back. I was a child then, so when he turned around to face the girl who dared interrupted him, I didn't know I would be so trapped and afraid of the presence before me.

"Qu'est-ce que tu as fait?! Go back to where you belong, little girl!" scowled the tradesman. He seemed to be in the worst of moods, thus his ill temper. But that did not stop me for I was trapped in the other's inescapable gaze. The silver-haired foreigner was handsome indeed. Very handsome and he seemed young, very young. Maybe around his early twenties? He was dressed in a business man's attire and carried a suitcase. But I did not gaze in admiration. I gazed in fear. He carried such a piercing and cold stare, I couldn't help but be frozen.

"Is the child bothering you, sir?"

Next to this fearsome man, were other fearsome men who (I did not notice) hid themselves in black car (seemed to be used by the wealthy). They appear to be bodyguards, and having made that observation I knew I had to flee.

"It's alright," he said taking his piercing eyes away from me and back to the merchant. He spoke to him in French, which I did not understand, gave him the suitcase as the tradesman handed him a key in exchange and he grumpily walked away. Judging by the looks of what happened, this peculiar man purchased something of importance which the tradesman hesitantly parted with.

"My business here is over," he called to the bodyguards as they returned to the car, but one of them stayed by the car door, opening it for this powerful man. "And what about you, young lady? What business do you have with me?" He questioned nonchalantly, but I hinted some tone of an attempt in friendliness.

I was struck speechless. What was is this man? "Pardon my rudeness, monsieur… I was only begging for directions," I said. He smirked at my response.

"My dear monsieur, we'll be late!" called out a young woman from the car, her blond head poking out where the car door was left open. Her face was heavily covered with make up and she was dressed in sorts of fur and other expensive (not to mention useless) nuisance of clothes. Perhaps she was his concubine… or whore.

"It seems I have to leave," he told me. I nodded my head in agreement and I began to walk away. "But a child like you shouldn't wander around aimlessly in a city as big as Paris. Let me take you in my car. That will save us both some time."

He gestured for me to follow him, and I did. When I entered the car, I thought I've never seen something so grand (it was my first time being in one). I was awed and studied every part of the inside. The lady chuckled at my reaction. "Well, Sesshoumaru. I did not know you had a taste for _younger_ girls. Who knew they also liked wealthy cars!"

Sesshoumaru, who sat next to this mundane woman (who clung on him so irritably), ignored her mocking of him (she practically said he was a pedophile), and said, "This young lady needs to get somewhere. Where do you want to go?"

I told him of my purpose in these streets, and so he ordered his chauffeur to go to my destination.

"That's good," he commented, "I know that store, and it's close by where I'm headed."

As we drove, I looked outside the window only to be fascinated by the car's overwhelming speed.

"She's a pretty little girl, monsieur," the woman said as she studied me carefully. "However she looks foreign. Maybe she's Japanese like you are, sir?"

The fact that Sesshoumaru was Japanese shocked me. He did not have the appearance of a Japanese man. Though I thought he was foreign, I assumed he was German of some sort. This fact made me laugh a little.

"Ah she thinks you're funny, monsieur!"

Sesshoumaru cocked an eyebrow at me but ignored our childishness. "Tell me girl, what's your name?"

"Je m'appelle Rin, madame," I answered, aiming to be polite.

She burst into laughter. "I am not a madame young one! I'm not so old." Sesshoumaru laughed along but it seems for a different reason.

"_Mademoiselle_ Dominique, you are not so young either," he teased. She grunted at this and stared out the window.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Ah, Sesshoumaru! Welcome! Welcome! You have not visited my store in a awhile!" exclaimed Jean-March, the aged shop owner. In his store, there were many unfinished violins and cellos hung on ropes on the ceiling. On walls, there stood models of violins that were finished and a price tag was stuck on the wall adjacent to the instruments. Near the shop desk was a window where the more expensive violins were encased in a glass. They were all neatly arranged and the whole store was tidy. It pleased me. Above the store, I could hear a violin being played.

"My wife is upstairs, playing." He said apologetically, though I didn't know what was so wrong about it. Looking at us, he noticed my petite form. "Ah who is this little girl? Your daughter perhaps? HA! I never knew you settled down." I blushed at the thought of him being my father. Did we even look alike?

"This little girl," said Sesshoumaru, "was roaming the streets of Paris unaccompanied as she searched for your store. I thought it wise, since my destination is the warehouse down the street from here, to bring her here myself."

The old man chortled at this. "Who knew you could be so generous! Haha!" He placed the spectacles which hung about his neck over his eyes and observed me. "Now what does this pretty lady need from my store?"

I explained to him what I needed. Nodding his head, he said that he will return shortly as he walked to the back and entered what seems to be a storage closet. Sesshoumaru explained that he has to attend business, and departed.

"Sayonara, Sesshoumaru-san," I said in hopes that my Japanese will please him. Sesshoumaru just gave a blank stare and left immediately. I thought it odd that he did not return the gesture.

* * *

After that encounter, I never saw Sesshoumaru again. I thought that he had been a dream or some sort of an illusion. All traces of our meeting vanished and as years went by I had soon forgotten about him. Winter melted into spring, and spring gave way to summer, then summer evanesced into autumn. The cycle repeated and I thought my life as bleak as any winter day. I continued to work for the carnival under the harsh terms of my care taker but was often comforted by Sara, who seemed to have become more and more ill as times went by. She explained that her deformity made her body very weak. Her spinal cord grew frailer each day and her heart was weak due to a certain illness passed down generation through generation in her family. I was saddened by this. I writhed at the thought of Sara leaving me.

When Sara did die, I was already fourteen years old and I did not shed a tear. It seems God likes to take away anyone who becomes my family, and to spite him I held back any form of grief. Sara was given an improper funeral and the caretaker simply gave her body to the local morgue. This thought angered me. How can I pay respects to her grave? Solace became scarce in such an imperfect world. Though at my age, most girls would be budding and indulging in things that gave them beautification, I stayed at the brinks of poverty. Once in a while I would spy a young woman and envy her life while I pick up garbage, run tedious errands, or get beaten by the care taker. He even threatened that if I remain as useless as I was, he will sell me to a brothel. Won't someone rescue me?

Someone did. One summer night in Paris, France, I encountered Ichinose Sesshoumaru in the most unexpected of places. That night soon became the turning point of my life.

* * *

**Author's Note:** The end of chapter 1. How was it? Liked it hated it? Just give feedback. The song Sara/Arachnid sang is called Hunter's Kiss and it's by a band (which I love) called Rasputina. It's a very beautiful song. The name Arachnid came from the Greek mythology of a young woman named Arachnid who was extremely talented in weaving (a domestic honor back then). She was so talented she challenged the Goddess of Wisdom and Art, Athena to weave a better quilt than she. Angered by her arrogance, Athena turned Arachnid into a spider, so she could weave endless webs forever.

Forgive me if my French is terrible. I've only taken classes for a year.


	2. Princess de la Rue Soit la bienvenue

**A/N:** Here's chapter 2. I forgot to say I don't own Rin, Sesshoumru, and Sara. Plot's mine though. I really like this story, and I especially love writing it. I molded Rin's character here as a pessimistic, and often harsh character who's neurotic when she sees imperfection (though she does not show it physically). Here Sesshoumaru isn't as cold as the usual fics or as the series, InuYasha, portrays him. He's only misunderstood. And I love that. I love the power of writing.

The chapter title is taken from the lyrics of the [beautiful song, Complainte de la Butte by Rufus Wainright. It means, "Princess of the street, be welcome, in my injured heart."

**By the way i realized my mistake on the last chapter. It said that they will meet one summer night... really they're going to meet one summer day. Oopsie xD**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Princess de La Rue, Soit la bienvenue, Dans mon coeur blessé**

We walked past street performers, sharing unwanted elegance to this malicious world. Here in the darkest corners of Paris, I await my doomed fate, being dragged by the care taker. Having been told that I must savor the last few shreds of freedom I have left, I did, despite how imperfect they are. Here and there are peasant French singers, whose voices are as angelic as Saint Cecilia's yet here they are feeding on the palm of poverty. Their romantic words and consoling beauty provided for me a sanctuary in which the weight of my punishment could be lifted in this fleeting moment.

It's a wonder how these flawed beings could create such perfection I rarely see in today's world. As of now, I could no longer judge them. My life was about to enter a world so sinful, I should die in my self-righteous pit. Dressed in a somber black dress, I slowly paced to the end of the street where a brothel was awaiting me. My hair was neatly tied back in a bun with my face decorated with inexpensive make-up. I wet my lips, making my dried up rouge seem to have brought life in my bleak face. I was instructed by the care taker hours before that I must make myself look presentable. And I did.

"Bonjour Monsieur Georges, Is this the girl?" A rigid old woman with silver hair rolled at the top of her hair, making a gray lump on her wrinkly, leathered skin. She had glasses sitting at the crook of her nose where she peered obnoxiously to scrutinize me. Once in a while she would look at what looked like an account book on her desk where she was seated at the entrance of the brothel.

"How much is she worth?" grumbled Georges (I now learned is the care taker's real name). He couldn't wait to be rid of my supposedly rebellious existence, it seems. He shoved me in front of him so that the old crone could take an even closer look.

"She's very pretty. A foreigner from Asia?" she compliment with a rather hoarse voice. The elderly are very pitiable people. The madam was probably once beautiful and lived a perfect life of glamour. However, life seemed to take its toll. Aged and senile, it's pretty clear what a decadent life she's been living, being a matron of a brothel. "However she looks rather boorish. That dull look she gives makes her seem ill-mannered. I wonder if that sort of attitude can take a customer. We need a _charming_ piece of jewel. Not a rough diamond." Her insolence ticked a certain part of me. I began to furrow my brows as an expression of distastefulness.

Georges grumbled to himself. "She's all I got. Unless you want some freaks in your whore house."

The madam gave an exasperated sigh as she took out a small tin box that looked like it could only contain notes. Opening it, she revealed its contents… which were neatly piled francs. "I'll give you four hundred francs for this girl. Though she looks ill-mannered, I might make a fortune from her exotic appearance."

He snarled at her offer. "Four hundred francs is worth nothing! I can sell her for more in a slave trade!"

The crone seemed amused at his burst. "Slave trades are now illegal. And considering how politics are now, so will this brothel. The way business is now, I can't afford spending real money on such a girl. She's not even old enough to have formed _real_ breasts. She won't attract enough customers."

He stormed out of the brothel as he put a steel grip on my arm, marching down the street. What profit could he make with such a boorish girl such as I?

* * *

Emaciated and famished, I withered away in a summer night. The beautiful Paris has failed me. Though I am youthful, I have become useless. The thought of freedom and happiness has long escaped me. Fragments of my childhood memories soon shattered into a million pieces as I slept under the shelter of ivory moonlight. Here I was, in an unknown street in Paris, waiting for the heaven stairways to take my life away. Waiting for my wings to take flight…

After ten years with the carnival I was abandoned in the streets, forced to care for myself. Often I would steal from the open air markets, cleverly hiding my theft. When storms would dare take me away, I looked for shelter under the bridges of the Seine River, or took shelter with the nuns of the local churches. But I never stayed too long in a street. Once strange men realize I have made a home, they would decide to bother me with their desires.

I was ready to die. I was ready to rot. After all, what was left of me? With my remaining dignity, I chose not to make a whore out of myself. Yet with my hopelessness, I chose not to seek success. Instead I idly waited for death to carry me away. Until that is, I had a familiar visitor…

"Sacrebleu! Well, why is the fair princess of the street so full of sorrow?" a recognizable voice asked. I raised my head from the cement ground and stared at the man I had met many years before.

"Oh my, I remember you! You're that little girl who came to my store looking for Sara's cello strings," Jean Marc exclaimed with surprise. He was older than ever. He laughed sentimentally at the memory. "Am I not right? The one who I mistook to be Sesshoumaru's daughter?"

The mention of such a distant and abstruse name suddenly aroused my weary mind. Although it was a long time ago, I remembered him. I remembered my past in Japan with my parents, my moving to Paris and becoming a homeless orphan, my strange encounter with Sara and her kindness, and my serendipitous meeting with a man named Sesshoumaru. Ten years seemed long ago…

"You were such a small child then," he commented with a bit of nostalgia. "You were so adorable! Little and all. I remember I ranted to my wife how she would've loved to meet a sweet child such as you. Now look! All grown up! How old are you now? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

Tears welled in my eyes. I never felt anymore lost. Remembering that you had lost something so precious became so painful in the end. "Je ne sais pas, monsieur." _I don't know, mister._

He patted my back as I fell in his fatherly arms. The memory of once having a father became so painful yet so sweet. I tried to stop and cleaned my face as I realized that the tears only dirtied my face more than it already was. I tidied my stray black hair and fixed my peasant shawl, unruffled my skirt and stood up.

"Come to my house, my wife will prepare you something warm to drink," he smiled. That offer seemed odd. Since it was summer, the night was warm enough. The air was warm enough. Perhaps he realized how cold my life had become. Perhaps he realized how empty it was not to feel warmth in your life any longer.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Meeting his wife was quite bothersome. She was corpulent just like her husband. And when she gave me a first-meeting embrace, I felt her cumbersome body squeeze the small life out of me, only to have it return when she made me hot chocolate. Its sweet, milky taste brought a sensation to my hungry mouth and satiated my pitiful stomach.

"Oh look at you! Such a pretty girl!" she smoothed my cheek with a gentle fabric, wiping away the mud. She was a very cordial woman, especially to children (as I later noticed in the future), however bossy and tyrannical to her poor husband. "Monsieur Poulain, would you go fetch some bread from the pantry and help me feet this famished young lady!" Monsieur Poulain was the ever obedient husband, Jean Marc.

After that night, the Poulains went to the registry and adopted me as their daughter. Ever since they have treated me so. In exchange, I decided to help with daily chores, or listen to Madame Poulain play her violin, or even helping Jean Marc paint his instruments. When both were too busy, I kept watch over the shop. The Poulains thought I was well-suited for cleaning and taking care of the store due to the fact that I liked it when things of display were perfect. Therefore, perfection is always achieved when it was I who had created it.

After a year, I probably showed signs of coming off age, for the Poulains brought up a rather peculiar subject.

* * *

. 

As I neatly arranged my carrots onto one side of the platter, the roasted chicken on another side, I neatly cut my food and placed it gently to my mouth. My adoptive parents were rather silent. I looked over to my step father, noticing that it seemed he was trying to speak but was unsure of how to put it. On the other hand, my adoptive mother looked down at her food, chewing nervously as she anticipated what Monsieur Poulain was trying to announce. It seemed I was the only one who was blissfully unaware.

Finally, Monsieur Poulain dropped his fork at an odd place on the table. Since the table was round and small, I was able to reach it and organize it back on his platter. This odd habit of perfecting visible things was something my family has grown accustomed to.

"Rin…" he spoke with much uncertainty and unease. "It's been a year since you were with us. Yet you've grown… You've become like a daughter to us you know…" It was rather difficult trying to decipher what his point was.

"It has come to our attention from the registry that your birthday transpired about a month ago and ever since you are now seventeen years old."

This sudden talk of my age made me realize what the point was about. It was so obvious. And the reason why he was so nervous wasn't understandable until I realized he might've assumed I would think they're trying to expel me from their family.

"We thought it best that you should marry."

Indeed I was grown. I had formed curves on my hips, thighs, and bosoms grew where my flat chest was. I was indeed taller than I used to and my once childish and adorable face became womanly and if I tried… very seductive (I tested this once in the market when I attempted to seduce the son of the butcher. The results were very amusing).

"Step father," I said, "I presume you've already chosen a husband for me." My assumption seems to have made them even more apprehensive. My imperfect parents were sweating. Do they think I'm cursing them inside my mind? If anything I was grateful. But instead of clarifying that I watched them with glee.

"Ma chère, I'm only doing this for your own good. You'll love him!" he said with much encouragement. I grinned at the thought of me being an obedient wife to a man who probably sells pastries for a living. I began to take a sip of wine from my cup. "You know him! He's the butcher's son! What was his name… Claude!"

At the utterance of his name, I spat out the precious red wine on the table. _Him?_

"Do you not like him?" asked Madame Poulain. Of course I didn't. But how can I tell them? Claude is a clumsy fool who can't even walk down the street without tripping on his own trousers. I pity him! Him with his ginger hair and disgraceful face which was garnished with awkward freckles. He obviously used his father's status to receive my Step Father's permission. (A/N: Amongst merchants, butchers are rich)

I remained stoic. If that is their choice then I did not care. No man could ever please me anyways. "I'm sorry for my behavior. I gladly accept Monsieur Claude's proposal."

They sighed in relief. I also became relieved after they said, "Well, we haven't really been asked for your hand. We just figured maybe we could arrange it with Claude's parents."

As minutes passed they began their typical conversations of the past day's events, gossips, and rumors. Madame Poulain spoke of a new neighbor two blocks west of where we were situated. While Monsieur Poulain… spoke of interesting news.

"My dear, do you remember that lad who I taught the violin ages ago?" Monsieur Poulain asked. His spouse radiated with memories of the past at the mention. "Oh yes! He's a business tycoon now isn't he? What was his name… that Japanese immigrant, Sesshoumaru!"

My eyes bulged. This evening seems to be full of surprises. I'm sure they were aware that I was drenched in my own perplexity. "Rin, you remember him don't you? He was the one who brought you here when you were a little girl."

I stared down at my food without facing them. The thought of his piercing gaze, cold beauty, and overwhelming appearance made me blush of embarrassment. I was such a foolish child then… "Of course I remember him, step father." I tried as hard as I can not to appear uneasy and to maintain a perfect façade. This man… he must be so powerful to have influenced me in this even after years.

"He shall be returning to Paris from Japan tomorrow for some major business. I'm so proud of that boy!" With the end of the sentence, he shook his head as he smiled so boyishly, feeling the pride a father would after discovering that he raised a prodigy.

* * *

The busy streets of Paris were congested as always on a normal summer day. In the open air market, bulks of old women and tradesmen pushed through each other. As if they were flies, people buzzed about meaningless gossip and the latest news. Apparently, one of the hottest topics was the arrival of a powerful and handsome foreigner.

The idle conversations would go like this:

"Bonjour Cosette!"

"Bonjour Amelie!"

"Did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"A famous and wealthy business man, who travels all over the world, will be visiting Paris today. Rumor has it that he is visiting this side of the city!"

"Why this side?! The larger trades are on the other side! Why who knows how lucky we would be if we met him?"

"I would like to try and seduce him…"

And then the two obnoxious maidens would giggle at their sinful plot of love. I hated how pathetic these women were. They don't even know him yet they're already snooping for his power.

After I finished shopping for daily groceries, I made my way down an isolated alleyway to the quiet bridge where I supposedly met (in my memories) Sesshoumaru, trying to relive the past. It was only a couple minutes from the open air market, so I knew I wouldn't lose my way. Did I really meet him? It seemed such a long time ago.

I walked on the bridge looked over the river of Seine. Business was not lively for the river today. Scarce boats floated on her peaceful waters. Above me, birds flew past as they glide down the river for their daily meals.

This scene was perfect.

It was something I haven't thought in a while. I remained separate from reality as I daydreamed in my head of meeting Sesshoumaru again. Not to fall in love with him as the other women say but just to see him again. Just to see if what had happened then really did occur. If I fail to meet Sesshoumaru, then I will be forever haunted by my imperfect memory.

"Excuse me, mademoiselle," interrupted a stranger. I turned from the scenery of the Seine to the sight of a few vulgar men. From their patchy attire and stench, I knew they were thieves and my guess is they thought of robbing me due to my basket full of food. There were three of them, all soiled and worthless. Their grins revealed disgusting, yellow teeth, decayed with trash they've been eating. I decided there to just ignore their crudeness and walked away. However, I was stopped by the man who interrupted me as he grabbed my elbow. I glared back at him in alarm.

"We just want to speak to you, my dear mademoiselle." The two behind him couldn't hold back their laughter.

"I do not want to speak to repulsive trash such as you," I replied coldly. I escaped his grasp and began to walk quickly out of the area. Looking around my vicinity, I realized how abandoned it was. No wonder why these boorish men decided to bother me. However, they followed, infuriated by my insult.

"Don't you dare walk away from us!" the three of them encroached as the leader grabbed the back of my blouse, pulling me to his side. His barbaric hands quickly covered my mouth to prevent me from screaming and my arms were bound as he wrapped himself around my torso area as a way of preventing escape. "Quick!" he whispered harshly. The rest took my basket of the food, dug it in their coats, and searched my pockets for anymore money. When they took what they could they began to strip me, tearing the smooth cloth and invading my body with their defiled hands. I began to cry in hopes that it might save me. But what could tears do?

"What are you doing?"

An impassive voice reached our ears. They all ceased at the interruption, and the leader even released me, dropping me to the cold cobble stone ground. At the sight of the intruder, the thieves ran off with food, scared out of their wits; while I lay there on the ground, feeling ashamed at my vulnerability and inability to protect myself. I never felt any _weaker_ than this before. My emotions were swept with self-revulsion. Staring down at the cold ground, I let my long raven hair slither down my bare shoulders and concealed my helpless face.

A shadow of a man crept by my figure. His leather black shoes appeared at my sight on the ground. "Are you alright?"

"What do you think?" I asked choking back tears. He might have saved me but I have no time being grateful. "I was almost raped for god's sake!" I could sense the man before me as he knelt. Even though my eyes were glued to the ground, I could feel a familiar and frightening gaze fall upon my feeble body. I soon became queasy at the thought of his scrutiny.

His gentle fingers threaded themselves into my black locks and pushed them back to my ear so that my expression was visible. Then he cupped my chin and tenderly raised my head to bring my gaze up at my savior. "I'll take that as a thank you?"

His voice was a kindly monotone in which I found solace and safety. Its familiarity brought a sudden sense of not only surprise but relief. His expression was that of a statue but with a keen of friendliness.

Here in front of me… was Sesshoumaru.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"_The steps of the mound are hardest on the poor  
The sails of the mill, like wings, shelter all paramours__"_

It was as if, neither was perfect nor imperfect. As if all melded into something more. Around me I could feel nothing. Inside of me I did not feel love, anger, fear, or salvation. Only the fading sensation of rebirth

When we I looked him in eye I was awed by the impossibility of us meeting again like this after ten years. Though time was frozen, we weren't. His visage was betrayed, showing a rather shocked emotion. Though every part of his face remained stoic, it was his traitorous eyes which told me he indeed remembered who I was.

Not a word was exchanged as he helped me up. Embarrassingly enough I clutched so tightly at his arms, I was worried I might've made him feel uncomfortable.

Dazed, I could not help but notice that he was exact same person he was before as I remembered him, with the exception that he looked a bit older. Nonetheless I felt relieved he was there. I felt relieved of being away from this world for at least a timeless second.

"Why is it that I remember you from somewhere?"

Deep inside my mind, I knew the impossible had come true.

* * *

**A/N:** I understand this chapter was slow. Heh, sorry! By the way the quoted line in the last section comes from the song, Complainte de la butte by Rufus Wainright. It's actually in French and that's just a translated version. 

I decided to post useless facts about the main characters that will never appear in the story (the facts not the characters…). I was inspired to do this after noticing that manga artists do so in their own mangas xD. (By the way this story is in no specific time period. This is why I do not go into extreme detail of the culture, the clothing, and the areas. I decided it would be funner if my readers chose their own time period.)

**Rin:** Born in Japan as a commoner and raised there until she was four years old. Her parents decided to move to Paris, France for opportunities (lol no not America P). However, they died shortly after arriving due to natural causes. Left to fend for herself, Rin traveled through orphanage through orphanage until she was left in a carnival where she agreed to work for shelter. Feeling attached to one of the performers, she stayed there until much in her late teens (when her boss decided to sell her away, only to find that nobody wanted her).

**Sesshoumaru:** Half Japanese and half French but raised in Japan (in this **AU** story it is so!). Shortly after his Japanese mother died, his father decided to return to France when he was 12 years old. His father, a doctor who was also a musician, was acquainted with a couple who ran a music shop. There, Sesshoumaru learned how to play the violin. However ambitions interested him more than music. During much of his youth he studied in private schools and graduated college. He began his business by buying off failing trade companies in Paris and using them to start his own trade chain (reference to 1st chapter of their first meeting). Soon after finding success, he left Paris to return to Tokyo where he began his first real company and became a powerful man. Now he travels often to America, Europe, Japan, and other countries for the sake of commerce.

**Sara**Inspired from the character in the anime series, InuYasha (she appears in episode 133…I think. But in the anime she really doesn't have six arms). Born and raised in France, her parents were Japanese. Due to her deformity at birth (it's still a wonder how she was born with six arms) her mother abandoned her in an alleyway. It is unknown how she survived but as she was older she hid her deformity by wearing oversized coats or blankets. Sara was taught how to play the cello by one of the kind people who took her in when she was younger. Nowhere to go, she joined a carnival where strange beings are exhibited… hoping to show her talent. That's where she meets our protagonist, Rin. Rin at first despises Sara because of how she looked but soon they have a strong, but short relationship.

**The Poulains:** Not much to say except that they're an old couple who's musically inclined. In their younger years, Madame Poulain gave birth to a twin boy and girl. However, the infants died 7 years after their birth. Ever since, the Poulains have had a kind heart for children that pass them by.


	3. the Lullaby of the Forgotten Paramours

**A/N: **For those of you wondering why I update so fast, it's because I love this story! I can't wait to write it! Haha! It's simple yet touching and I can relate to the characters which is something I love. (The other stories I wrote, I couldn't really relate to the characters' situations so I just gave up on them). To be honest I don't really care if you guys hate/like my story because I know I love it. The only reason I want some reviews is to see if I can improve in an area. Thank you for reading and here's chapter 3 .

I suppose things will start getting dirty after this chapter. Really I wanted things to stay innocent and simple… but stories need to be exciting, right?

* * *

**Chapter 3:** **The Lullaby of the Forgotten Paramours**

Where have I been all these years? Where have I secretly hidden my passion? When did I ever live my life? Before my marriage, I was indifferent to life. I did not indulge in trivial matters because I had thought that it would always be unexciting. Who knew men could rouse such emotions within me? After all, we belonged to two different worlds. He was a powerful man whose wealth was ever-lasting. If he wished, he could marry any girl he chose. I was a common girl with no redeeming qualities. I was neither intelligent nor extremely beautiful. I was merely the pretty girl who was adopted by the Poulains. Yet in the end, his choice was an unexpected and peculiar one. Because of him my life changed so drastically in both good and terrible ways. Perhaps, this is where the story _really_ begins.

* * *

"Why is it that I remember you from somewhere?" he had asked the question casually. Yet it commenced a dangerous beat in my heart. Where was reality when I needed it? I knew I had to maintain myself and to not drown in my forgotten memories. 

I swallowed a non-existent was of nervousness in my throat and replied with uttermost politeness. "That is because, monsieur, we have met. Many years before..." I suddenly forgot that I was robbed, harassed, and almost stripped. I did not realize my predicament until we rose and began walking to the direction of the main street.

My answer seemed to have dazed him. He was deep in thought and did not speak, seeming troubled by my presence. Was he trying to remember me? When we approached the main street, the hordes of men and women stared at us. The women's harsh whispers carried malicious intent and delivered it right to my ears. I ignored such spiteful exchanges. To us, they were nothing and it was apparent Sesshoumaru was unconscious of their watchful eyes. I'm sure we did not appear as a couple for he only stood beside me. There must be two reasons why they would gawk so shamelessly: Sesshoumaru's arrival must have surprised them; and a young, foreign lady whose blouse is about to fall off is walking right by his right. I'm sure something completely demeaning is stirring their idiocy.

"Where do you live? I will walk you there," he said… though it was more of an order. His offer shocked me a little. Before that he did not speak at all and now he is casually talking in front of all these people to me.

Why, my cheeks were probably burning crimson! Recovering all the shame that I had lost earlier, I quickly said, "It's alright. A busy man such as you shouldn't mind himself over a commoner like me." He gave me a bewildered look. Surely any woman would use this opportunity to win him over. But I had more shame than that. My life wasn't meant to be part of his. I belonged in imperfection while he lives above perfection. I gave him a childish smile which carried the air of playfulness to assure him of my sincerity. Despite all of this, a nauseating and imaginary voice went berserk, screaming for me to chase after my desires and agree with this man's offer. _This is your chance, Rin! Use this opportunity to get what you deserved…_ Really it was a tempting offer. But I had more self control than that.

A summer breeze swept us caressing my delicate, pristine skin. I felt a chill across my spine and I began to be aware of my place and time. I stopped walking beside him and we faced each other. His eyes burned with curiosity, placing the same fearsome gaze. All of a sudden, it wasn't so warm anymore.

"I must… return home," I said while shrugging. "It was really nice of you to save me back there. Merci beaucoup." I lowered my head and walked hurriedly towards a different street. It was a different direction towards my house, but I wasn't really concentrating.

"Wait!" he called out. I hesitantly turned around. He was there just standing. I searched out of hope for a pleading look in his eyes. _Give me a reason to stay…_I couldn't explain it. I wanted to leave, but I also wanted to stay with him. I think my eyes might have betrayed me. I think he might've noted my beseeching eyes. I think… he might've realized… how helpless I was to be with him. "I can't really remember you," he admitted as he began to walk towards me. "I don't remember how or where I met you. But I know I did. And I want to find out." He said it in the simplest way a man could.

He stopped walking once he was right in front of me again.

At this point I didn't know what to say, so I silently hugged myself as if pretending to be cold and I smiled in a polite way, exposing my pearl-white teeth and my eyes wandering to a different place. It was an action women of my age often used when they're confused or unsure of their next action. I began to doubt myself. _Was he attached to the memory of me because he lusts for me? _It frightened me a bit. If anything, I did not love this man. I was merely attached to him even after all these years for an unknown reason.

While I was fretting in my mind, he kept a cold gaze at me. At that point I realized he had amber eyes, an eccentric attribute of his. "This, ignorant girl, monsieur feels humbled by your presence. A man as important as you… shouldn't bother himself with me, as I've said before." When I was about to make another escape, he clutched at my arm rather tightly.

"I have a request from you. I'm sure being saved by me, you owe me this favor," he said. He spoke like a business man and that bothered me a bit. What sort of favor would he need? My brows wrinkled at this and decided to hear him out.

"I haven't been in Paris for almost ten years and I want to visit an old friend," he explained. "I might've forgotten the way but I know the name of his shop. Perhaps you could escort me?" The thought of a woman … no… a girl escorting a man seemed odd. Was he trying to take advantage of me and my vulnerability?

It's as if he read my mind. His eyes narrowed, "Do not think that way. I'm merely asking of an innocent favor."

I nodded my head in acceptance, "Oui, monsieur. Where would you like me to take you?" At this point I sounded like a whore, so I chuckled to myself. He gave me a strange look and seemed he wanted to question me, but he decided to ignore it and told me of his destination.

"It's an old shop," he described, "I believe it's called… La Musique de Jean-Marc?"

My heart ceased for a second. _Of course! They were casual with each other, if I remembered._ My eyes widened but I hid my shock.

"Do you know the way?" he asked almost worriedly but his face remained deadpan.

"Of course," I said and I lead the way.

* * *

"Wait here, s'il vous plaît," I begged as we stopped right in front of the store. Before he could say anything, I rushed inside, opening the door in a hurry and immediately shutting it with a bang. 

"Rin! What are you doing? You surprised me!" exclaimed by step father. He gave me a disappointed look and then noticed my clothing. "What happened to your blouse?!" He was in the shop desk, repairing what seems to be a broken viola which had a missing bridge and chipped scroll.

I gasped for air and breathed heavily. My cheeks were burning with anxiety. "Father," I said as calm as I could possibly be, "we have an important visitor." His head cocked, wondering could it be. I decided to return to the important visitor outside seeing as how he was soaked in his thoughts.

"You may come in, sir," I said shyly. I followed him behind as he entered the store. Following us, the loudest shout my step father ever bellowed rang our ears. "Sesshoumaru!" Sesshoumaru bowed in the traditional Japanese way to him, as if he was of higher status. "I haven't seen you in such a long time!" He embraced him while Sesshoumaru was awkward about it. When he finally let go, he turned his direction towards me. Trying to avoid Sesshoumaru's gaze I immediately glued my eyes to the wooden floorboards.

"I see… you've met my step daughter?" Monsieur Poulain said rather uneasily. "Do you remember her? She was the pretty little girl who you accompanied to my store." He was rather jolly about the subject despite how uncomfortable the both of us really were. On the other hand, Sesshoumaru did not stir at all at the memory but something inside of me told me he finally remembered.

My step father must've suspected something, seeing us come here together with my upper apparel almost falling off and my usually straight and tidy hair messy with strands showering down my temples. I hugged myself as I did before to prevent such tragedy from occurring. I was sweating with apprehension and I could not wait for him to dismiss me to my room so I could grab a change of clothing.

"Rin," he said interrupting my thoughts. "Go help your mother prepare dinner. Tell her Sesshoumaru is here… well finish dressing first."

I gladly obeyed and ran to back of the store which was connected to the Poulains' real home. Right after changing into a different blouse and skirt (which unintentionally exposed a good part of my chest), I did not go to my step mother but instead went behind the door which led to the shop and eavesdropped stealthily.

"I apologize for my unannounced visit," Sesshoumaru said monotonously. He was as business-like as ever.

"Nonsense! Did I not tell you you're always welcome here? An old friend will always be an old friend." Monsieur Poulain returned to his work at the shop desk while carrying a conversation with Sesshoumaru.

I peeked from the crack of the door for Sesshoumaru. The last remaining crimson rays of the setting sun shed light from the shop window on his beautiful face and his silvery hair which gleamed with uttermost grace. Impassive, cold, yet somewhat gentle… I couldn't tear my eyes off of him.

"I didn't know," alluded Sesshoumaru, "that you were interested in adopting... a foreign one at that." The latter comment was directed at my step father's infamous, innate pride and love for his country. He wasn't a man of racism or prejudice but he usually preferred things to be French.

Monsieur Poulain smiled. "Oh you mean Rin? Pretty girl isn't she? I picked her up off the streets last year. Poor thing… so frail… looked like she was at the verge of death! Well now we tried our best to care for her. Though she's a good daughter and extremely obedient, she rarely talks and shows no interest over things girls her age would usually be interested in." I'm assuming he's speaking of my lack of interest in housekeeping and men.

"You said I brought her here before?" he quickly said. I see… he really _was_ trying to remember who I am. I was almost flattered by his interest in me. "I found her in an alleyway earlier near a bridge leading to the other part of Paris." He failed to mention I was robbed and he rescued me. Sesshoumaru probably wished to avoid having this man be in debt to him.

"Why yes you did," Monsieur replied with glee, "It was ten years ago. You barged in here telling me you found a lost and wandering girl who searched for my store. It was quite a sight, really. You're the type who seems to be wary of children."

A light in Sesshoumaru apparently has been lit. _Does he remember now?_ "Yes I remember a child. Her eyes were very childish and rather large… they looked like chocolate orbs," he commented and laughed to himself.

Monsieur Poulain seemed rather curious. "Are you interested in my step daughter, Sesshoumaru?" He eyed him rather suspiciously, but not angrily.

Sesshoumaru appeared appalled by the thought but he didn't deny anything. He just shrugged casually. When he did open his mouth to confirm anything, I was disrupted by my Step Mother as she approached the door. She whispered, probably assuming I was listening to an important conversation. "What are you doing there child?!"

I quickly stared at her in fear and ran quietly to the kitchen while she tailed me behind.

"What were you doing eavesdropping like that?! It's totally unlike you!" Though she had no idea of what I was listening to, she was abashed at the level of rudeness I dropped to. However she didn't understand. I was enamored to Sesshoumaru. I explained to her of our guest and the dinner we needed to prepare. "Oh child you should've told me sooner! Now they'll be waiting for a meal longer than they should!"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Dinner was expectedly extravagant tonight. My step mother prepared roasted pig dressed with rare spices and seasonings. There was also an expensive loaf of bread sitting as our side dish, mashed potatoes, assorted fruit salads, wine, and the finest sole grilled to perfection. For dessert, I baked a strawberry short cake with a platter of croissants. Tonight's meal was rather large.

"Thank you for the lovely meal, madam. Delicious as always," complimented Sesshoumaru.

"You're very welcome," she smiled, flattered. I dug in peacefully, hoping not to catch his gaze or I might lose self-control. Even with that attempt, I could catch glimpses of him looking at me. And in return I would blush at him.

"So Sesshoumaru, where are you staying?" questioned Monsieur Poulain. He picked at his food with his fork while slicing the meet.

Sesshoumaru answered while drinking his wine, "I'll be staying at a hotel. I believe it's on the boulevard of Saint Germain."

"That isn't so far from here," I mentioned. It was the first time I spoke uncalled for. But nobody minded.

"That's so…" Sesshoumaru looked at me with an atypical interest. It didn't seem to me to be of a sexual one (at least I hoped it wasn't. I was too innocent and young for such game).

"Well, our home isn't as grand as a hotel but you're welcome here whenever you want to, Sesshoumaru." My step-father was as blissfully unaware as ever.

* * *

Since his hotel was in the vicinity of our neighborhood, I was ordered to escort once again our very important guest in fear that he may lose his way.

The night was embellished with a chain of a million stars along with a beautiful crescent moon, shedding its ivory light upon us. Their achromatic, diamond glare was bestowed upon this imperfect world. The night was windless and it was barely laced with silver wisps of clouds which dared conceal such beauty from Paris. However, Paris itself challenged nature's decor.

Golden lights from towering buildings gleamed like jewels. Their vibrant glow was shadowed upon the sleeping waters of the Seine. Restaurants, boutiques, and other business were lively. Streets were congested more than it was in the day except it was infested with young lovers or street performers who played romantic music.

Nobody was lonely, except perhaps, the beautiful crescent moon of the summer. Why, amongst all of these living creatures, it is only the moon which celebrated such solemnity in its celestial heavens?

"I find it funny, don't you?" I said. Ever since we left my house we were quiet and did not converse. He looked at me strangely, wondering where I was getting at. I stared back at him with a gleam of amusement in my face. "Ten years ago, it I was I who did not know my way and you who helped me."

He was humored by this for he smirked. "Forgive me; my memory is poor due to my hectic life. But from what I remember of the day we first met, I had my driver lead us to the store. I was always pitiable in terms of directions."

I laughed at this. He didn't appear to be the type who would easily admit his own flaws.

"What does this mademoiselle find humorous?" he asked.

I shook my head and smiled, stifling more laughter. We were engrossed in conversation that we did not notice an approaching stranger.

"Why how unexpected it is to meet you here, Sesshoumaru!" a grim man greeted us. "And with such a pretty girl… Tell me how you're able to seduce the young ones, I'm dying to know. Hm, I should tell your beautiful fiancée about this." The word fiancée dismayed me. Yet what was I thinking? Sesshoumaru was affluent, handsome, and kind. It should be no surprise that he had someone in his heart. _What was I thinking?_

The anomalous man was probably an acquaintance of Sesshoumaru's for he was also Japanese and spoke very casually. He had long, untamed hair darker than the night. Though he was a very attractive man, he had an eerie atmosphere about him and his smile seemed devious. I blushed at his flirtatious statement and looked a different direction to hide my embarrassment.

"Nice to see you too, Naraku," Sesshoumaru responded emotionlessly. "This is Rin. She is the adoptive daughter of my old friend, Jean-Marc." Then, he turned to me, "Rin, this is Naraku. He is one of my closest friends and an ally to my company. He's here in Paris to help with international affairs."

I bowed my head to Naraku out of courtesy. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"What a polite girl," he grabbed by wrist and softly placed a kiss on the back of my hand. "The pleasure is all mine." His eyes, hypnotizing and yet very strange, were playing with mine. Naraku seemed like a flirt but I was unsure of what to do, seeing as how innocent I was then.

Sesshoumaru seemed displeased for he was glaring not at Naraku but at me. I was unsure of what I had done wrong so I quickly returned my hand to my side and looked away from Naraku. "We were headed to the hotel…"

"The hotel?!" Naraku questioned suspiciously, "I didn't know you had such intentions…"

"Nonsense," he denied such allegations immediately, "she's just accompanying me out of politeness. Forgive him, Rin. My friend could be so boorish at times."

I was so red I bet my head took the form of a tomato! This kind of talk was simply inappropriate for a virgin like me. "It's alright."

After taking a dangerous scowl from Sesshoumaru, Naraku apologized for his behavior. "Forigve me, my dear Rin. My friend is right and I am completely out of line. I hope we meet again. As for you Sesshoumaru, don't forget about the meeting tomorrow morning." He bowed to me in a way a French gentleman would to a woman he is trying to seduce. What sort of meaning should I make out of this? Though he was indeed ill-mannered, I found Naraku delightful and the fact that he was handsome flattered me. Did that make me… superficial?

Anyways, Sesshoumaru was quite upset and he did not speak until we reached his hotel.

"It was a pleasure having you at my home today. Have a pleasant evening," said I. We were at the entrance and we were about to part ways. However, I did not want to leave. Sesshoumaru's presence was very comforting and my body was persistent in showing my true feelings.

"Do you not want to leave?"

The question dismayed me. How could he read me so well? Was it his expertise in women?

"I…" I didn't want to dwell any longer. It was dangerous. He had a fiancée and it's late at night. The Poulains must be wondering why it's taken so long. Pain and confusion mixed themselves in my heart as it ached with doubt. Inside of me there was a battle between desire and principle. All my life I was an obedient, little girl. Why can't it be the same now?

Despite my ever seditious conscience, I fell imprudently into his trap. Who knew such a man could be so hungry for frivolous women? As if to persuade me even more, he approached even more, having barely a short distance between us, and dove for a light yet passionate kiss.

And I, being the naive girl I was, dove into this arduous yet passionate love which initiated the demise of my life.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

**A/N:** Sorry to rain on your parade, but that's chapter 3. I must tell all of you that Naraku will play a very evil yet significant part over the romance. I know I know but I need him (sad smile). I'm sorry if I was a bit repetitive with my words here. I was a little brain dead while writing.


	4. J’ai Froid Avec Votre Amour Chaud

**A/N:** Ah, the smell of freshly baked stories. I love it! I love this story. Right now it's really unpopular but to me I can't stop writing it! Too bad the popular demand isn't something my brain and heart demands. It's alright. At least I have one faithful supporter (haha! Thank you so much for bothering with my story. You know who you are). This chapter will start with a time skip into Rin's future. She will obviously narrate it and after that section we're back to the original time setting.

Re-reading my past chapters, I can't help but cry at my typos. I really need to proof-read...

**Title is French for, "I am cold with your warm love."**

* * *

**Chapter 4:** **J'ai Froid Avec Votre Amour Chaud**

I raised my tea cup to be level with my lips. I welcomed the fine china into my mouth, drinking in the elated peacefulness stored into this simple tea. In the haven of the manor my husband so willingly built for my usage in the summer, I relaxed sitting in a veranda which overlooked an expanse of the sea of emerald land which belongs to nobody but me. Rolling hills and bushels of exotic flowers were embedded on the fertile soil of unused land where my capricious children entertain themselves with their inane recreational ideas.

Instead of admiring my scenic view, I gaped at my tea. In this beverage I saw the reflection of my life and how it came to such a change. I thought of fond memories and people I left behind in my dismal past. Last but not least, I thought of a time when I was naïve and lovesick and he was simply, the perfect man.

* * *

Such softness, so fine… so welcoming. With my first kiss I was filled with a bewitching storm of passion so ardent with love. Beneath my breasts, I felt the explosion of my beating heart and a jubilant tremor in my belly. Never wanting it to end, I held onto him and he held onto me. I was apathetic of the world around me as it slowly vanished and lost myself in reverie. Nothing mattered at this point.

When we pulled away, I stared listless upon his eyes. I couldn't discern his emotions or his reaction. But that didn't matter, and I soon fell into his embrace. Wrapping my arms around him so tightly, I didn't want to let go. I denied in my heart that I was in love. I was only addicted to this passion, which provided me a sanctuary away from my dull life.

Suddenly, I was frightened. _What have I done?_ This sort of relationship was indecent and would betray my reputation with the Poulains. I was fortunate that I my sanity returned before it was too late.

Regret drowned itself in my eyes. "I'm sorry…" the apology was inked with every bit of sorrow. Distraught with my bafflement, I reluctantly pulled my hands away from his grasp and once again walked away.

"Why do you tend to apologize?" he said, stopping me at my tracks once more. "You're not at fault."

I shouldn't be so naïve. I should leave immediately. "What exactly, do you intend to do with me?"

The question bemused him. _Did he idealize me to be some innocent virgin who is easily swayed?_ "What do you think?"

The honesty of it all shattered the sanctuary I had created through his pleasures. Is that what he wanted? Was I a women he can pick up and discard like some unwanted trinket? "Monsieur, you have a fiancée! I'm not a woman who you can use in the absence of the other." I was disconcerted at the thought of a sinful affair which depended on mere lust. I didn't need another imperfection in my life.

Yet he persisted. He took advantage of the opening I gave way and kissed me once more. Only this time, it was forceful. I tried with all my strength to pull away, but my feeble attempts were no match for his Herculean strength. When his hands wandered into inappropriate parts of my body, I knew that everything had to stop. Even so, I didn't do anything to impede him. I allowed everything to take place. The feeling, the touching… My frigid heart yearned for all of him, seeking a getaway from my simplistic life. What did morals matter? Compared to him they all weighed nothing. Even _I_ can't deny myself the bliss he gives me. I knew what he wanted. I want it too.

When the kissing stopped, he led me to his hotel room. It was more of a suite, for it as lavished with luxurious services and furnishing. However, I didn't have time to be awed. Upon entrance he began abruptly his "business" with me. I doubt his aware I was virgin and had no absolute idea of what I was doing.

With all the lights turned off, the alabaster moon drenched us with its pale light. Sesshoumaru's long, hair was graceful as they slithered down his stunning face and I remained enthralled by him as we lay together.

That night we committed something irrevocable. Maybe it wasn't so for him for he apparently had a reputation with women as I later learned. Though there was much pain and a feeling of being _stretched_ beyond limits, I was happy. Happier than I ever was. Afterwards, he fell asleep. He looked very serene and weak, almost childish with a slight smile on his face. Later on, I myself was happy for being able to make him feel the same way.

* * *

Though I tried to deny it, inside of me, I knew what we shared was nothing more than a prize for his daily pursuit of pleasure. I fantasized throughout the day that he thought I was special as I also held him special. Back then, I didn't know … that after experiencing a fleeting euphoria… comes the agonizing yet life changing consequences. 

………………………………………..

The Poulains were not aware of my tardiness. When I returned home, they were already dormant. It didn't occur to me that they trusted me so much that they needn't bother wait. The morning and days after, I had an elated aura about me as I joyously completed daily chores. The Poulains thought it strange at first, but they decided to ignore it. But I also found myself despaired at certain times of the day. Though I did feel happiness, I also felt emptiness. _Where was he? Why hasn't he returned for me? Is that all?_ Those questions ravaged my mind and often brought me grief. I was cautious as to make sure the Poulains were ignorant of my emotions. If they discovered that their kind, respectful, compliant step-daughter made premarital love to a man almost twice her age, then they would be wrought in devastation.

Days turns into weeks, weeks turn into months and my reminiscent feelings for Sesshoumaru gradually retired in the back of my busy mind. Nearly three weeks after my time with Sesshoumaru, I was innocently visiting boutiques, spending excess money earned monthly by my adoptive parents. Little did I know that I would serendipitously stumble upon a man who I thought I would never encounter.

I was browsing through a selection of mediocre dresses made especially for summer. My budget wasn't sufficient for expensive gowns I dare not indulge in, so I asked the store clerk to show me the inexpensive ones.

"Here mademoiselle, try this on," the shop clerk suggested. "Tell me if you like it, and if you do we'll see if you want any modifications so I can inform the tailor, oui?"

"Oui," I answered. The fitting rooms were located at the rear of the store yet it wasn't in a separate section of the building. They were just cubicles where women can hope they'll be concealed. As I wore and adored/criticized my appearance inside these apparels, I heard the deafening ring of the bell attached to the entrance door of the boutique.

I ignored it as usual, until I heard one of the sales ladies shriek, "Oh my, you're Monsieur Naraku aren't you? You're the famous acquaintance of Sesshoumaru?" It seems my "lover" became quite the popular talk these days. He's been running and buying business in France, owning almost half of the major companies/industrializations established in the country. Not to mention, his looks lured in most of the popularity.

I gasped and my eyes widened. My memory quickly surged to the point of time when I met the peculiar man the night I came along with Sesshoumaru. _What is he doing here?_ I pondered the question and peered through a small opening of my cubicle door.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," he greeted yet I had an inauspicious feeling about this. His sneer made intimidated anyone who saw it. He appeared to be an intelligent deviant of some sort. "And yes you are correct. Since my identity to you is known, I shall head on to business. May I speak with the owner of this shop?"

Their conversation was a dull one for a girl like me. It pertained to the failing profits of the boutique and how the owner's economic demise will be inevitable if he refused to prioritize the debts he owed to Sesshoumaru. Was Naraku the debt collector for this tycoon? (Apparently, Sesshoumaru loans money for entrepreneurs and invests in their success. If they prove unsuccessful and fails to repay the loan, Sesshoumaru sends Naraku as the collector. If Naraku does not get what he came for, he will automatically cease the owner's vending rights and ownership and bring it to Sesshoumaru's power.) This was only his side job; his real job is something I discovered later in life.

I disrobed myself of the dress and wore mine. I chose which one I would purchase and stepped out, revealing myself. I approached the cashier and didn't wish to be recognized by Naraku. If he did he will surely bring up Sesshoumaru and at the time, he was a fragile subject.

"Could it be?" He walked towards me to confirm my identity. I shyly looked downwards, not wanting any of his attention. "Aren't you that girl Sesshoumaru was with a couple weeks before?"

I nodded my head compliantly, afraid that anyone else in the shop might hear of me. "How strange. I didn't know I would meet you again and here of all places!" He seemed rather delighted by this meeting. I was sweating with apprehension.

"Please don't feel intimidated," he said rather sweetly. His eyes burned with some sort of delight. What is he scheming now? Unlike Sesshoumaru, who veiled his feelings by adapting a deadpan mask, Naraku hid his thoughts using suspicious grins. He often smiled at me and spoke in a seductive manner. "I'm done with my affairs here and I'm about to take a break. Would you like to join me with a cup of coffee at a café?"

I gaped at him, wondering if he was serious. Yet he just looked at me for approval. I finally nodded yes, and joined him as we exited out of the store.

* * *

He walked me the way a gentleman would to the most expensive café located in the tourist area of Paris (it was a long walk, mind you). During our travel, he spoke of the trivial matters and conflicts out to ruin the business his wealth with Sesshoumaru created. Unlike Sesshoumaru, this was Naraku's first time in Paris (though it seemed to be he was pretty fluent with his French). His whole life was in Japan and he first met Sesshoumaru when he began major trading business in fuel and diamonds. At first, Naraku lacked the money needed to invest and enlarge his company in order for real success to be achieved. However, Sesshoumaru was already a wealthy, Parisian man and decided to begin an economic friendship with each other. Ever since, they've dominated over other major millionaires in Japan. Soon enough, they became what Americans called billionaires in their country. 

It seemed that all of this was trapped in Naraku's mind and bothered him often. He would confide in me his plans, stratagems, and worries. However, I never thought it uninteresting. He explained the ways to me in a jargon understandable for my simple mind. If anything, his unusual and superior intelligence impressed me.

"Forgive me, I must be boring you," he apologized.

I immediately shook my head and conversely said, "No, I find it fascinating actually. A life built and dependent on wealth must be luxurious." He responded with a light laugh at my statement. With this, I felt my statement to be too mundane for him.

Reading my thoughts, he immediately said, "Don't worry. It's not that I find you stupid. I found your observation to be amusing in a good way. It's nice to see that other people find my life enjoyable when it really isn't."

I didn't understand how wealth could be so tedious, but I ignored the topic and we talked of other things. Frequently, I brought up Sesshoumaru and asked about him. "I hear he has a fiancée." Naraku cocked an eyebrow at that. "Yes but I pity her, really. He always leaves her in Japan and when she does tag a long, she is left in his suite. It's the heaven's mercy that granted her ignorance of his notorious womanizing."

I frowned with disappointment. _So…I really was just another woman._ Naraku was smart. He knew what I was thinking of and he didn't bother exploit me. Instead I asked, "What's his fiancée like? Is she pretty? Is she also here in Paris?" Though she wasn't in the suite the night I was with him, I was still curious.

To Naraku, I was probably a child whose head is filled with absurd inquisitiveness. "Well, she's a kind woman… very submissive if you ask me. Yet her docile attitude is her redeeming quality and is probably what attracted Sesshoumaru to her. And yes, she's in Paris. However, she stays in a different suite. Sesshoumaru is frequently bothered by business associates in his room and always has to do… work. In order to maintain focus, she stays in a nearby yet different hotel."

Hearing that, I unbelievably did not feel an ounce of guilt. I told myself repeatedly that as long as she was oblivious, I didn't care.

Naraku failed to answer my second question but I'm sure he has reason to avoid it. Ergo, I let it go and we chatted away. Along my way, I found that the two best friends are the complete opposites. Sesshoumaru had silver hair, quiet, impassive, and carried the impression of unfriendliness. On the contrary, Naraku had jet black hair. He was mysterious and constantly intimidated people with his cleverness and superior knowledge. Both were enigmatic yet completely different, but they still shared an inscrutable bond as strong as close friendship.

Two sides of the opposite coin, I suppose?

When we arrived at the café, he suggested gourmet coffee though I declined and asked for hot chocolate. He appeared intrigued by this, but it was always an infamous fact of mine that I preferred hot chocolate than coffee.

"So," he said, "tell me more about you."

"But monsieur, I have nothing to say about me…" I was embarrassed at my rather bleak and uneventful history.

"I'm sure someone as beautiful and young as you have much to tell."

My cheeks were heated red at his compliment. Also like Sesshoumaru, he was able to manipulate me (though they used different methods). "Honestly sir…"

Naraku took a sip of his coffee and fixated his somber eyes at my pathetic form. "No need for formalities. We're friends now, aren't we?"

I gulped in nervousness. Why was he being so forward?

"So tell me," he began, "Isn't there a boy eyeing you? Or perhaps, _you_ are eyeing a boy?"

If it was possible for my head to explode due to discomfiture, then my whole body would've exploded. He was aware of this and savored the moment of my weakness.

I rose from my seat and excused myself. "I'm sorry, sir. But I must be going and I'm sure you have a busy schedule to fulfill."

When I was sure I wasn't followed… When I was sure I was a far distance from him, he still managed to stop me. "I'm sorry," he said though the apology didn't seem sincere. "I just happen to find you alluring."

Sesshoumaru lured his prey with his actions. Naraku trapped his by weaving a web of pretty words and flattery until I was trapped in his deceitful thread. He approached me and softly caressed my cheek while pulling my soft, dark curls behind my ear. "You don't mind, do you?"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The day my heart fell for two men was unforgettable. The time Naraku first seduced me took place in an empty alleyway near my home. The sun was setting and the sky was burning rouge. Slowly, nature made way to the night as Naraku guided me to a secluded area where we trapped ourselves in the same passion I was in with Sesshoumaru. Thinking about it now, I probably used him to forget about my unrequited relationship with his best friend.

When he pushed me to a wall, I didn't resist his forceful hands or his forms of affection. I submitted myself to this curse of being used. In the end, I wanted to forget about Sesshoumaru and hoped I could have a promising relationship with this stimulating man.

To put it bluntly, we made coarse love in a public alley and I was conscious of this often. While he did his business I often looked around to see if by passers dared to be rude enough as to watch us in the act.

When we were done, he agreed to walk me home. He didn't bother introduce himself to the Poulains and left before he could be spotted. The same desolate emotion suffocated me at the thought that he might've used me too. Its probability was high. They were the same type of men, despite their differing characteristics. I shouldn't carry such high hopes.

Every moment of my life afterwards, I tried to forget about what happened. At first it was easy until one morning in the open air market; a dangerous consequence exposed itself in the form of a frightening predicament.

While purchasing groceries, I suddenly felt queasy and the heat exhausted me. The conspicuous stench of fresh foods sickened my nostrils to which I vomited violently in the streets. Everyone around me fretted. The vendor quickly pail for me to use, and a fellow buyer quickly called for a doctor to see what was wrong. A circle huddled around my miserable form as I knelt on the cobble stone ground, continuously vomiting the contents of my ill stomach, drunk with nausea.

It wasn't until the anxious look Madame Poulain gave me when she saw me… that my eyes came in the verge of tears.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

I was lying awake on my bed that whole day, weeping endlessly over the unalterable mistake that ensued. Madame Poulain opened to me her maternal embrace as I cried and cried for forgiveness. Monsieur Poulain stood aghast and speechless while sitting on a stool near my bedroom window after the doctor revealed to them that what transpired in the market was my morning sickness… one of the first few symptoms of pregnancy. Afterwards, the doctor left us to ourselves.

Salty tears streamed down my paled face as I buried myself in Madame Poulain's chest as she lovingly stroke the back of my head, hoping that it all could go away if I just hid myself in her comfort. Monsieur glared at the window, mortified and terribly disappointed.

Inside of me was a growing and unwanted child; its life fragile yet rejected by the love of its parents. Perhaps, wallowing in my grief could awaken me from this terrible nightmare. Perhaps, this is all just a mistake and my doctor was inexperienced. As my sadness washed away in my tears, another storm brewed itself. Sudden anger burned itself aflame. Here I was, suffering a tragic accident and yet the possible fathers of my child were oblivious and savored their life of debauchery.

I couldn't handle it anymore. The silence… the loneliness… "I'm so sorry…" I screamed out, choking in tears. Madame Poulain hushed me, the only creature who knew and was sympathetic to my anguish. To my apology and implied confession, Monsieur Poulain rose and looked at me with fearsome eyes. Then, he shook his head and slowly walked away from my room and back to his shop, sinking in all of the news.

What was to befall me? A mother as young as I, I was petrified. Will I be kicked out of my home for my immoral behavior? Will I be shunned by the community and be treated as the town whore? Will I be able to be the mother I should be?

Those were things I wanted to know. Who the father was… didn't matter. They were ignorant and right now, it was enough for me.

* * *

I remember during my first pregnancy, I was so afraid. Thoughts of my ambitions of living a proper life slowly disappeared into a vague dream which I could no longer return to. Knowing this, you could believe the surprise I had when the very pregnancy which ended my old life started anew a dream which I never dared treasure in my mind. 

At that milestone, day, point... perfection and imperfection no longer existed. They became mythological stories which opened me to a world I yearned for so many years ago. Beneath the door was a gap on the ground, in which a bridge must be built. In order to pass this world into my destination, I created a game of my life. A chess game to be exact... and who were my vital pawns? None other than Sesshoumaru and Naraku.

When all self-respect leaves you, you are left with nothing but a devious plot to ensnare anything that is left.

* * *

**A/N:** Aw, poor Rin! Damn those pedophiles! (Sesshy and Naraku). I won't be updating in a while due to the fact that I have to travel somewhere. So this coming weekend, I won't be updating chapters. I can't wait to bake more chapters though! (lol!) So thoughts on the chapter? Are you all angered? Enticed? Disappointed at Rin? Sympathetic with Rin? Just tell me I'm dying to know. 

As for who the father is, it won't be revealed in the story but I plan on answering that question in one of the A/N's of the next few chapters. I hope you'll read (xD!).


	5. The Nadir of the Parisian Harlot

**Author's Note:** I have to say, I'm really happy I wrote this story. It gives me something to look forward to during this bleak summer. After reading all your reviews, I felt flattered (of course, lol), and a little disappointed at myself… I should've done more character development, especially on our two boys. But to be truthful, I purposely made it so that they'd have a one night stand with her to define what kind of men they really are. They're powerful and hungry for, either sex or money. Just so you guys know she's infatuated with Sesshoumaru (thank god! I would never put her with Naraku… the sex was for the drama xD!).

But I'm glad you guys don't mind the type of person Rin is. I thought people would start bashing how I made her, and to be honest she's almost like me (except… I have a stronger will for abstinence). That's why I like my own story (for the first time ever) and I want to keep writing it.

Also, one of you mentioned that if it weren't for the abrupt sex, Sesshoumaru and Rin would have the same relationship as the protagonist did with her (eventual) lover in Memoirs of a Geisha (good book… I recommend it). It's funny since I wasn't even going for that, and then it made me think, "Wow… I maybe I should've made them as romantic as that couple!" Well too late now (I really do wish I can re-write the last chapter just because of that comment xD).

As for the question of my story's unpopularity, it's really because the popular stories of Rin and Sesshoumaru are the ones that have high school plots and such. Another reason would be, perhaps, my summaries suck? Haha.

Once again, thank you. I'm sorry I couldn't update sooner than this. Like I said, I was away. Here's chapter 5. Surprise! It's in English!

* * *

**Chapter 5: The Nadir of the Parisian Harlot**

Upon the news of my pregnancy, Madam Poulain suggested I stay indoors due to my fierce morning sickness. After a few days, it became routine and I strongly resented the vicious cycle (no matter what I did, my breath was vile!). It was unquestionably so that I kept the baby, thus Madam Poulain's head was always busied with my health, making sure my unborn infant and I do not undergo something so tragic such as a miscarriage. Insanely enough, one night I was so wrought in despair that I had undergone a phase of self-destruction and contemplated whether I should cause an accident that can help me lose my bastard child. Fortunately, the doctor (who now visits occasionally) told me a miscarriage can cause extreme blood loss, ergo the loss of my life. I was aware of my selfishness, but desperation can easily sweep our minds.

As for Monsieur Poulain, he ignored me in a daily basis. To be more accurate, he evaded any sort of interaction with me. Initially, I assumed it was his way of preventing a tantrum of the sort, but as days passed I suddenly became apprehensive. Though my step father never was a close friend, he developed a bond with me closest to what I remember a father should have with a daughter, and it upset me to think because of this one mistake, he will forever disown me. Contrarily, Madam Poulain defended him, saying it was his way of showing concern. I didn't fully understand this until many years later…

While I caged myself in the comfort of my home, rumors of all kinds erupted in my neighborhood. The women whom I meet everyday in the market now suspect my affliction is a result of not abiding to God's law. Other idiocy also fused throughout the neighboring streets, but it didn't take long for other people to realize I was experiencing underage and premarital pregnancy.

Hearing this kind of garbage disheartened Madam Poulain's kind ears. When townswomen gossiped and questioned her of my sudden disappearance, she merely smiled and said I was ill. I was extremely grateful for her steadfastness and benevolence.

Still drowning in apathy over my situation, I quietly reflected over the two men who have caused this. Most of the time, it was Sesshoumaru. What _was_ he thinking? What was _I_ thinking to let such a thing occur? The fact that we had…done it… meant that he no longer thought of me a child, or matter of fact… never thought of me as one. Concluding with this, I presumed he never really remembered me, and such lies saddened me more. I was infatuated with him due to his ability of changing my life in the smallest of ways (even then I was rather fond of my earliest memory of him). Now, he seems to have changed my life in the biggest of ways. It's quite ironic.

Nonetheless, I didn't see any sign of him and if there were any news of him I never asked. The Poulains still don't know who fathered the child, let alone know that there was more than one candidate. I'm sure there were suspicious, but they never dared ask. But if one was to relate to their quandary, one would think they'd assumed the father was nothing more than a peasant boy who probably leads a life of depravity and insincerity. Thus, it would've been better that they were ignorant of the matter (though half of that assumption is ironically true).

I wasted approximately a month inside my home. Such practice was discouraged by my gynecologist, who was a senile man, seemingly unfit for a job such as caring for women's health. Yet he was rather experienced with pregnancies. Perhaps his passion for medicine declined in the recent years? Anyhow… during my waste of a month, I decided to look away from my problems and help the Poulains discreetly by cleaning the shop while they were away on errands or tidying the house during their absence. Though it was a failed attempt at recapturing their trust of me, I really did hope they acknowledge of my earnestness.

In my loneliness I thought often about Sesshoumaru and if he was aware of my scandalous day with Naraku. And if he did, did he bear any sort of emotions? It didn't come to me how or why Naraku would speak of such a thing to Sesshoumaru, but I wish he did. Sometimes I pondered the reason as to why I desired such fantasies… I really am an imperfect creature_…_

Ever since that night, I had been different. Why was the loss of my worth, so degrading? Why did the loss of my trust to a seemingly good man, bring such melancholy?

When a woman is used by a man and later discarded as if a worthless trinket, no longer entertaining, a woman will hold a grudge greater than the pain he had caused her. For both Sesshoumaru and Naraku, I carried the weight of a child and the burden of an overbearing resentment which soon stirred the tides of my salvation.

* * *

I didn't meet, see, hear of, or speak with Sesshoumaru at all… not at least… until four months into my pregnancy when my belly began to heavily swell. It was well into autumn nearing the harsh months of winter. Beginning my second month up to recently, I've been receiving signs of amnesty from my adoptive parents and took it as an initiative to renew my life. At the time I had accepted my pregnancy and often thought of my child's future. During my sleep, it would frequently move about, as if acknowledging my existence. Those momentous greetings became what I sentimentally cherished. I've never been so fond of something so trifling before in my life, and it was quite thrilling.

During a November day, I wrapped myself in warm shawls and a dress made especially for women in maternity as I walked the streets of Paris once more. Due to the climate, the markets were closed and groceries were now purchased in the comfort and expense of in-door stores. Suffice to say, my body was extremely conspicuous with its ever-increasing corpulence. My neighbors took note and gave such wretched sighs at my direction that rumors quickly spread of my pregnancy. They didn't bother discover the truth to the conception of my child. Instead, they entertained themselves with slander so malevolent that it intimidated me from returning to the public. I became quite the celebrity… the Parisian Harlot. The whore. Often, perverts and sexually deviant men alike whistled my way or created a mockery of me. I ignored them. Sinful as I was, they didn't know me and they had no right to.

Nearing the 3rd week of November, I received such an unexpected request from Monsieur Poulain. There was news, it seems, of Sesshoumaru's departure from Paris in the following weeks and he had reverently asked for a final dinner with the Poulains as close friends. This event was unbeknownst me, so I hadn't the chance to explain my wariness of Monsieur Poulain's guest. The day the dinner was to transpire, Madam informed me of this and that's when I confronted Monsieur Poulain, after accumulating much courage.

"Um… sir…" I meekly interrupted him from his work. The monsieur still carried a small amount of animosity towards me, but he acknowledged me nonetheless and it was enough.

He cocked an eyebrow at my presence, his (mean) way of saying, "What is it?"

My heart ruptured with anxiety. What was I to say to him? _Monsieur, please cancel this dinner with your guest, at last minute, because he might be the man who impregnated your step daughter…_

That explanation was out of question.

My pale temples were beaded with sweat as I clutched nervously at my skirt. "About your… guest for tonight…" my stammering was off the limits and Monsieur was irritable. To please him, I decided to criticize myself before making a daring request. "This flawed and weak daughter of yours… wishes…"

He sighed exasperatedly. "Would you please get to the point?"

I nodded my head out of courtesy. Heaving in all the breath that I could, my lips uttered a blunt yet apocalyptic sentence, "I wish to be excused from dinner with the guest, sir." There. I had stated the impossible.

Waiting hopefully for a (merciful) reply, my teeth bit dangerously on my lip. It wasn't until my tongue tasted the metallic flavor of blood that I knew my mind was gradually succumbing to the comforts of insanity (whatever comforts may be found).

"And why is that?" he questioned rather suspiciously. "Are you ashamed of your… pregnancy?" It appears to be that he's more of ashamed of it than I am. "It's alright. Sesshoumaru is a close family friend. He won't judge you so."

_Well… he shouldn't have any right to judge, in the first place._

I complied with him in utter defeat. With no other hopes, I resumed to my room with nothing else to do but delay the moment.

I climbed the stairs to my room with great difficulty, having to bend my back backwards in order to allow my legs to stretch under my inflated womb. I shouldn't complain. I deserved such fate. When one acts upon imperfect desires then one should suffer an imperfect life.

While I slowly entered my room to consume time by slowly thinking of how to overcome the inevitable, Monsieur Poulain yelled something which did not reach my ears… Something of great importance.

"By the way! You should make yourself presentable… Sesshoumaru is bringing another guest with him."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I gently pressed my lips with a bit of rouge, to give some life into these once delicate and enviable lips of mine. Scrutinizing myself at my mirror, I brushed the dark tresses of my hair, giving it a silky sheen while pushing away misplaced strands behind my ear. As for my attire, I dressed in a simple, black dress. I didn't mind how morbid it made me appear; I wanted to conceal my excess weight as much as possible.

The lamplight was dim golden in this rather important and scrupulous night. Outside from the window, a crescent moon parades its seductive light amongst the starless sky. I chuckled to myself, bewildered by the serendipitous turn of events. _That night… was also decorated with a beautiful, crescent moon._

I let out a sigh… so full with fret. What _am I to do when he sees …__this_.

Incongruously, I felt the child inside me move about and the action surprised me. Smiling down at it, I patted my plump stomach as I whispered softly, "Time to meet papa number 1…"

* * *

Months before, when I had given myself to this chauvinistic man, I didn't burden myself with the guilt of betraying a stranger who had been someone important to Sesshoumaru. His fiancée belonged in a world so far and alien from mine. Her life was lavished with glamour, beauty, and the most sought-after man ever born in this world. When destiny weaved itself an opportunity for me to begin anew and seek my desires with that man, I had taken it and made a terrible mistake. My crimes and reactions towards it were irrevocable yet I didn't regret for her sake. I never did.

So why have the gods placed our fates so close together?

The question was something I wasn't prepared for. It was something so callously thrown at the entrance of my home, which was now invaded with dreary thoughts... Just when I found a bit of tranquility… hidden in this life of imperfection… I was immediately robbed of it.

There I was, cowering by the doorway of our dining room as Monsieur Poulain genially invited Sesshoumaru… and his guest inside our home.

My quaking hands caressed the frigid skin of my stomach, searching for warmth within my unborn child as reality swept me once more with such a cold-hearted breeze. Not once in the past have I felt so trapped… so suffocated… my grasp of solace slowly diminished.

"Good evening, Monsieur Poulain," his placid voice… so familiar… so unchanging. I gulped nervously … but not at the sight of him… it was the presence of another guest I was ignorant of. "This is my fiancée," he continued. "Due to my coming departure, I wished that you would meet this woman…"

How cruel… how heinous can this man be? He _knew_ I inhabited this house. He _knew_ my feelings for him were genuine. So why? His atrocious ways never appeared to be so repulsive before.

"Ah what a lovely lady she is Sesshoumaru! You're a lucky man!" While they were being ecstatic, graced with their happiness I continued watching them as anger flooded in me. How cruel joy can be sometimes…

What could I say? The mademoiselle was beautiful. More than I could ever possibly hope to become. As she curtsied and greeted the Poulains, she carried an air of poise. Charm also appeared to be something innate for her. And her smile… radiated with nostalgic happiness I once had. But the most intriguing part about her was her eyes. If one were to gaze into her, one would find himself drowning in the bottomless pool of her black eyes.

And her hair… oh god her hair! I was seething with envy! Her hair was long and set free to sway about. As she stood in the doorway, her ebony hair glistened from silver light creating an enchanting feeling. She was truly _exotic_ and the very personification of perfection.

I was so lost in my thoughts… studying every detail of her. She's gorgeous! There was no doubt about it! Yet…

"_Yes but I pity her, really. He always leaves her in Japan and when she does tag a long, she is left in his suite. It's the heaven's mercy that granted her ignorance of his notorious womanizing."_

She appears to be happy… she appears to be blissfully aware, but one cannot discern whether the other is truly drowning in a sea of sorrow… where happiness… may as well be buried in the abyss.

"Rin," I was abruptly pulled away from my mind. Monsieur Poulain gestured me to join him and greet this stranger, exploiting my hideout. Suddenly their eyes were glued to me as I merely stared back in return.

"Sesshoumaru, you know my step daughter, Rin. Mademoiselle, this is Rin." All of a sudden, the old man's pride returned, as if forgetting my shameful pregnancy.

I curtseyed them, never dare look at Sesshoumaru. I forced my eyes to wander elsewhere and trap themselves in his eternally foreboding gaze.

"I see you're pregnant," the woman observed rather cheerfully. Her sinister delight infuriates me. "Congratulations." Her intentions were sincere. I feebly nodded but Monsieur Poulain tugged at my shoulder, expecting my gratitude to be less pathetic.

By then I had lost control of myself. My lips spoke yet the words were somehow stolen. When I tried to speak it ended with nothing more than a soundless word or an incoherent stutter. The look in her eyes suggested that she found me peculiar. But I wasn't at fault. _His_ confounded, piercing eyes need to turn away from me. Throughout my fleeting encounters with him, I've always felt his strong stares and have always been powerless.

_What is he thinking now? Is he hiding his emotions as always?_ Temptations rose and I knew I had to see for myself.

In the end, I fell into his abyssal eyes; eyes which pierce their prey with their menace. Sesshoumaru looked at me the way he always had: emotionlessly. Yet who knew such an emotionless action could be so captivating? When I was trapped in our locked gazes, the faint feeling of nausea seeped into my blood. Something was ascending in my throat and it triggered such sickly actions in my body.

Without thinking, I ran away from the scene. Away from Sesshoumaru. Away from his fiancée. Away from Monsieur Poulain. And I fled to the upstairs bathroom. Leaning towards the toilet, it felt as if all that was inside of me clashed with each other and regurgitated itself out from my body and into the toilet where it was flushed away into the sewers… For some odd reason, this nausea felt similar to the first one the day I found out about my pregnancy. And it hurt. It was too painful… the feeling of everything inside of you leaving.

As my stomach cried out in pain, my eyes shed tears… tears filled with wishful hope that soon, things will be end the way it should.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

_I didn't remember much of that day. Days which concerned his fiancée were soon forgotten in the future. However, the feeling of my body writhing in pain remains reminiscent. The vague feeling of losing all of what's inside of you haunts me to this very day._

_After the final tear streamed down my cheek, I did not join them in dinner, which they cheerfully started. Their feast… wasn't a feast for me to enjoy. They were a perfect scene, I was a shameful whore. That was all there is to it._

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Wallowing in my sorrow, I ignored the protests of my unborn child and hid myself in the kitchen as I listened to their delightful conversations. Interestingly enough, all of them spoke of many things… except for Sesshoumaru. He remained stoically silent. I remained there waiting for at least one word to escape his mouth, yet none came out. Soon after they were well into dessert, I retreated to my imperfect corner.

That is until I heard him utter, "May I excuse myself." He didn't wait for a response from his hosts. He exited the dining room while softly shutting the door (which was cracked open for my listening pleasures). He approached the kitchen where I was sitting on a chair next to the preparation table.

"What do you want?" I asked with much animosity. Though my back was facing him, I knew he was there. The creeping shadows which played with the kitchen light suggested so.

I waited for an answer, but instead Sesshoumaru studied our "peasant kitchen", looking at walls and all sorts of ridiculous decoration. "Congratulations on your pregnancy." He said it so easily… so simply… as if he had no part in it.

"Thank you," I scoffed. I wanted to strangle him for being so insensitive. I wanted him to die an utterly horrible and slow death… I wanted him to writhe in agony as I did minutes before.

After walking around, he took a seat across from me.

"Won't they worry about your whereabouts?" I asked sarcastically.

"If they're not worried about yours, they're not worried about me."

With this, I began to experience the same pain once more… the loneliness of suffering… Filled with woe, my eyes welled with tears. "I… can't… believe you…" I shook my head and quickly covered my shameless face with my spindly fingers. "You… you don't know…_anything_…"

The desperation of my hopelessness… the downfall of my life… sat before me. And there I was pouring my troubles away for him to face. He never knew the bitter taste of solitude… of carrying a child while being discouraged and depraved by others. He didn't and won't ever know what I had gone through.

After weeping for some time, I stopped. It felt as if only my tears were the sounds produced by this dark world and it felt strange. So I stopped. "I'm sorry…" Though I wasn't quite sure what I was apologizing for.

Feeling dignity slowly seep away and bitterness encroach my fragile heart, I looked up at him once more to see the face of this traitorous man.

"I'm sorry," he said back. His hand reached for mine and he gently held it. Right now in his mind he thinks it's his. Right now he has no doubt it's his. As of now, he feels the responsibility and the weight of the consequences brought upon by my child. He knew acknowledging it as his would be his demise. So why?

Only the surprising warmth of his hands gave the answer.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry if this chapter was a little slow. After I got home from my weekend trip I wrote this immediately and it felt like it wasn't my best. **I also decided to reveal the father in the story instead of the A/N's. I'll add it in the chapter when Rin gives birth (the physical features will imply the answer).** Once again I apologize if this chapter feels like I lost steam. In a way I did but I still love this story. Hope you enjoyed and please write a review if you have any suggestions/comments/constructive criticism. 


	6. Le Zénith de la Catin Parisienne

**Author's Note:** My lovely story… my mabudachi story. Just so you know, mabudachi is Japanese for beautiful and blossoming. The phrase is something I got from Natsuki Tayaka, the author of the popular manga, Fruits Basket. It's a great manga and I wrote stories of it from my middle school days. Please don't read those stories. I wrote them while I was experiencing puberty, undergoing awkward emotions, and writing with a mundane style. I get so paranoid you guys will start reading them. Just don't, lol! Je regrette over my typos…my hideous typos.

As for the reviews, I got a lot of feedback, and they're mostly about the same thing. And yes I relate to those who wished Sesshoumaru changed his ways at that instant, but ladies, I'm sorry. BUT that doesn't mean there won't be romantic parts! Will this story have a happy ending? Yes. Will this story be a dramatic roller coaster? That depends on you. I love how you guys are wondering who Rin's gonna choose. As for Sesshoumaru's fiancée, there's a reason for that, maybe a bad one or a not so bad one (notice how I didn't say good).

After re-reading my story and your reviews (omg my typos are dreadful), I realized that my story was extremely similar to the famous novel, Memoirs of a Geisha. The writing style isn't similar at all, I must say (the author wrote Memoirs in a very adorable and humorous way. You'll be enamored with Sayuri the moment you read it). However, the concept and themes are much alike. For those who didn't know, Memoirs of a Geisha is a tale of a little girl born from the slums of a fishing village known as Yoroido and how she became one of the most celebrated geishas of Kyoto while trying to pursue her love for a powerful man. Sounds familiar? Exactly. And it makes me sad seeing how the same they are. It makes me feel unoriginal. Sigh. (But the book is terrific, guys. Unlike the movie, it grips your heart and is unforgettable. Truly recommend it.)

Here's chapter 6 of The Winter of the Lonely Moon (L'hiver de la Lune Solitaire). Chapter 6 title is French for the Zenith of the Parisian Harlot. My, this AN is quite lengthy.

* * *

**Chapter 6:** **Le****Zénith de la Catin Parisienne**

_As I trailed the banks of the river, holding the hand of my youngest child, I quietly familiarized myself over the fond memories I have long forgotten. Looking down the river, one could see the reflection of an aging mother, whose dignity drowned in its never ending flow. Each day since then had been a stairway to the divided heaven I have lived in with my besotted husband and children. _

_Was it plausible that all this time my life was protected by the ominous winter moon? Through its loneliness, I found its hidden reality among the clouds which smothered its celestial light. Despite the ever encroaching darkness… despite the hordes of menacing clouds which harbored itself in her beauty… despite the colorless world it graciously hovered upon… the moon still shone so brightly. It's a well-known fact that when darkness devours, all color is lost amongst the silhouettes of night… yet why does the moon stay so pale?_

_Things such as that are unknown to man, and especially unknown to me. But one could only be awed by its persistence and inspired to shine as brightly in order for life to flourish when the day inches away from one's dreams._

* * *

The surprising warmth of his hand alarmed me and I quickly pulled away, afraid of the horrifying lust a woman feels for such a charismatic man. Yet, no matter how much he tries to fool me with his warmth, I know of his deceptive and cold exterior. 

"I found this situation a little interesting," he said rather calmly, radiating with the overpowering appeal he's always had. His eyes would not escape my body, especially my growing stomach, which was visible despite the table.

"Interesting?" I'm beginning to doubt his acuity over my pregnancy. Why make such a dull statement to me of all people? His ability to be crude yet seemingly charming amazes me. First an unwanted visitor and now this…

"Yes," he replied, "I find it interesting due to the fact at how intriguing you are. Well to be more accurate, I find tour decisions to be very intriguing."

My lips curled into a scowl as I sarcastically said, "I'm flattered you think so."

His eyebrows furrowed as if disappointed with my unruliness. "Being indignant doesn't help your situation."

My eyes immediately darted towards him, trying very hard to burn a hole at his heartless chest. "I suppose bringing your fiancée was much more helpful." That retort seemed to have displeased his ears. If it was so displeasing then why bring her when my feelings for him were clearly transparent? I had thought he was the perfect man… I had thought the man who rescued me twice and gave me a taste of life I could savor for years while living in the slums of poverty and misery. Yet he took advantage of that… Having had enough of painful memories, I got up with much effort, having to lean backwards for my child and said, "Monsieur shouldn't bother himself with my problems. He is to live Paris in a matter of weeks, after all."

Like all successful men, one rejection was too meager to suppress his desires. "What is it that you want, Rin? An apology?" He eyed me very strangely from his seat with his fingers twirled together as his elbows rested on the chestnut wooden table.

I let out a sigh, as if I was sorry this ever transpired. "Your betrothed woman will feel uneasy if she sees you speaking this way to me." There I was once more, disregarding his protests as if he was an impudent child.

"Aren't you a bit too fond of running away from me?" His remark was cold and his eyes were narrowed at me, producing the same eerie gaze which vainly attracts all attention to him.

My back remained facing him and I slowly paced towards the dining room, answering my body's screeches for hunger. Slightly opening the door, I half wished he would say more than he did. When the jolly faces of his nameless fiancée and my adoptive parents came to view, the golden light of the inexpensive chandelier flared towards the dim kitchen where Sesshoumaru remained and quietly whispered, "I'm sorry."

Though it was probably meant to be unheard, it reached my ears. And I must say… I've never felt so tranquil since the day he rescued me from an abyssal fall, in a little town called Paris. Perhaps, he truly is misunderstood and is the same man he was ten years before.

* * *

"Where have you been?" Madam Poulain's erratic voice questioned. She vigorously sliced the piece of pork on her platter while all attention was embarrassingly bestowed upon me. Monsieur Poulain, whose cheeks were rosy and plump, overlooked my absence and continued devouring his steak; while seated next to me, Sesshoumaru's fiancée quietly minded her own business. I still haven't explained my sudden disappearance in the foyer, thus she was quite humble in subjects regarding me. Let her own peace be hers, I presume. 

"I felt unwell so I retired to my bedroom for a moment," I answered meekly. Though my stomach was silently crying from starvation, I merely stared at my food, wondering whether it was right to savor and enjoy it as Monsieur Poulain is at such an awkward moment.

Madam Poulain shook her head meticulously as if she's simply weary of my never ending troubles. "Rin, you're pregnant! You should take better care of your body and eat." I chuckled softly, so soft no one heard it. She was fussing over extremely unnecessary and eating is a minute detail she shouldn't be so anxious of.

I grabbed my fork and knife and slowly chewed the night's festivities, slowly savoring the moist meat and warm, puffy bread. I made it appear that I wasn't so hungry for I was conscientious over my eating habits in public. And I especially didn't want to humiliate myself in front of the very woman who I fear and loathe so. (Though, eating cumbersome meat at a snail's pace was rather unpleasant with my throat). Docile and mindful, I continued eating… even when Sesshoumaru rejoined us in our seemingly endless silence. The everlasting moment he entered, our gazes locked and a swirl of emotions was brewing. Could I possibly endure another second in the same room with him? His presence disturbed the trance which we were all in, trapped in the delicacy before us, for words easily escaped our lips, ready for a delightful conversation.

"Where have you been, my boy?" asked Monsieur Poulain jokingly. He was quick to cleanse his soiled hands with a napkin. Madame Poulain seemed to have been at ease, forgetting my inconsequential problems. Paltry as they may seem, my problems carry a great scandal… enough perhaps to ruin this powerful man.

After Sesshoumaru seated himself to the left of his fiancée, being very distant towards the whispers she so suspiciously exchanged with him. I could see he gave a slight shrug, to which she reluctantly dismissed as the end of their irrelevant conversation. He sighed, appearing to be somnolent with thought. I was quickly aware of this, pondering over what he thought of while alone in the kitchen.

During the remainder of our dinner, Madam Poulain produced endless of interesting and uninteresting questions for Sesshoumaru's fiancée, whose name hasn't been revealed to me (which I might add is odd). During the while, Monsieur Poulain listened and questioned along attentively, acting as if he was Sesshoumaru's father whose right it was to query our guest so. However, my mind was at leisure, unaware of everything but Sesshoumaru and his watchful eyes. Because of this I was conscious of my swelling and unmannerly appetite. He displayed an expression that showed how absorbed he was in this tedious chat, but I knew well enough it was a pretense to guise his occasional and slight glances directed towards me.

At the end of the night, Madam Poulain and I collected the dishes and I washed them while the ostentatious fiancée (though in truth she isn't in a way so vain. I just share spiteful opinions of her) waited dully in the foyer attended by my adoptive mother. Through the crack of the door I heard Sesshoumaru converse with my adoptive father, "Monsieur Poulain, I need to speak with you before I leave." These words immediately caught my attention. As I ceased my actions, holding a china dish in mid air above the sink, my ears mischievously eaves dropped. In order to appear innocent, I let the water run and I absent-mindedly resumed to my chores.

His words were feathery and hard to grasp, but I managed to accumulate the gist of it.

"I've heard… times are hard…"

"Yes… I understand…"

"With things going on… who knows…"

Their voices were mixed in this inarticulate conversation and they spoke so lowly it was hard to understand.

"With Paris's economic fall… difficult… to even have thoughts of raising a child…"

My hands froze, feeling the icy water pour down my skin. The last sentence was spoken by Sesshoumaru, I was sure of it. But why? Why would he refer to my child like this? Did he confess that he fathered it? Oh what would Monsieur Poulain do to me!

"Sesshoumaru… I can never do that! Why… You know you'll always be an old friend…"

I was aghast. What was going on? My bewildered train of thought produced much speculation as to what they were discussing.

"It's the inevitable… All of us would benefit… It would be good for Rin."

My ears have been cursed with curiosity. Whatever it was, it must be something tragic. I want it all to end. I want the conversation to end. So, in the midst of confusion and bizarre events, I purposely dropped a platter on the floor, causing it to collide to the hardwood. Bits of porcelain clay shattered, flying to distances inside my kitchen. The sound of the crash frightened everyone for it was heard in the foyer and across the room.

"What in god's name is going on?!" Madame Poulain shrieked as she marched into the kitchen, tailed by a concerned fiancée whose delicate skin was wrinkled in perplexity. Monsieur Poulain and Sesshoumaru followed; their eyes full of question.

The Poulains hurried to me, cleaning up the mess while making sure I wasn't hurt. "Are you cut anywhere?" Questions, spoken and unspoken, flied at me as I stood watching the chaos ensue.

Desperate to escape the scene, Sesshoumaru humbly said, "Thank you for the meal. I'm grateful for your hospitality but I fear it's too late and we must retire back home."

Monsieur Poulain nodded his head violently while he urgently picked up pieces of the broken dish, cutting his finger in the meanwhile. Before the couple could leave, I was instructed to escort them through the exit.

When Sesshoumaru and his betrothed exited the house to the door steps, his woman patiently waited out in the chilly (shivering quite pitifully I might add) and dark streets. Her gentle eyes observed us while Sesshoumaru remained in front of me, whispering quietly with much aggression. "I will return in four days. Don't tell the Poulains. I have much to discuss with you."

I nodded wordlessly and bid them farewell. Sesshoumaru quickly came to her side, locking arms together as they walked very closely.

_What a pompous and rude man…_

I continued watching them with much anguish and pain in my eyes as he called to her, "Let's go home, Sayuri."

Her name sounded tender and lovely as he uttered it in the frigid night. Though they were close and covered in coats, I was bare with my thin garments. But that didn't affect me in any way. Instead of feeling the frozen sensation given by a nightly autumn breeze, I felt numb as I saw them make their way to the same suite I walked with Sesshoumaru. There I was standing alone in the doorway, receiving no sympathy from this cruel earth, except maybe for the lonesome moon who kindly given me a consoling light in which I could bask.

* * *

I had no will; I had no qualms; I had no misgivings. I had nothing. The day following that night, I spent the day watching over the music shop while Monsieur Poulain busied himself, leaving the house early in the morning and not returning till twilight. When I greeted him in any way, he simply looked at me with grief-stricken eyes and then shook his head while walking away. He's been so austere and unease recently it had bothered me. I knew very well it had to do with the conversation with Sesshoumaru, which left me wondering whether our secret was wrongfully spilled. However no answer came therefore I was hopeless. 

These bittersweet November days began to taunt me with their cold winds and bleak skies. Even the following nights, the moon was absent and it became starless. Since when has autumn been so desolate?

The last words Sesshoumaru had said to me were mind-numbing and I dared not think of them. I was also uncertain whether I should indeed meet him. As I sat in my room, reflecting the past events, I caressed my stomach, looking for assurance from my child. Yet what assurance can you get from something that doesn't have the capacity to think as we adults do? I soon dread the day Sesshoumaru arranged for our furtive meeting.

Time seemed to work conversely with my desires. I lay, insomniac, on my bed. It was dawn, a couple hours before the sun rises and greets me with a slap in the face as Sesshoumaru humbles me with his adamant and Machiavellian presence.

I couldn't sleep. I was too wrought with presentiment. Other than that, the child in me is being extremely obstinate for it moved frequently, causing great discomfort. Each minute ticked away as an hour passed and soon another hour. How cruel! (That's a phrase I've been repetitively using)

When the sun rose at its highest in the morning, bathing Paris in its golden sea of light, I didn't rise from my bed. I merely stared out the window as this unusually sunny, yet autumn day took place.

_I don't want to meet him… no I don't want to meet him…_I tried comforting myself by pretending that Sesshoumaru never arranged a meeting and that I had been under a hallucination. Unfortunately, it wasn't so. I tried to be intuitive and scheme a way out of the inevitable tragedy about to ensue, yet I lacked the clairvoyance to do so.

I started my day with much unease, watching the shop as always. I hadn't found a way to exclude the Poulains from this rendezvous. But I was fortunate enough to have Monsieur Poulain be as busy as he was recently, that he left for the majority of the day. Madame coincidentally was afflicted with a cold caused by the autumn chill. It seemed the fates are forcing this to happen.

My teeth grinded often and my baby kicked as if telling me to erase all worries and face the inevitable.

It wasn't until approximately three in the afternoon that I had sensed the worst of the worst will soon occur. While I was staring lazily over the hundreds of instruments piled in racks and hug on the walls, I quickly forgot about the day, and was hopeful over the fact that Sesshoumaru will fail to come. However I was wrong again. As moment by moment inched closer, the entrance door creaked open.

I summoned up the courage needed for this task as my eyes flashed to the customer… or expected guest… who might dare scare the wits out of me.

Why oh why are the gods so cruel? For there he was, basked in his triumphant glory (oh so sarcastically) Sesshoumaru arrives! Woe is me!

I silently lamented to myself. I was too afraid to face him for now and the truth was even more frightening.

He paced hurriedly towards me. Sesshoumaru was very fastidious today for his tone carried an aggressive demand for immediate speed. His gestured for me to follow him outside of the shop, afraid that if he spoke, unwanted attention might hear him.

I shook my head and my eyes pleaded with his. _I don't want to go!_ I cried in my mind. I knew he understand, but he wasn't sympathetic at all! He simply glowered and held out his hand as a sign to follow.

Sighing in loss, I obeyed. What was to become of me?

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

I walked behind Sesshoumaru, whose fast pace was impossible for a pregnant woman such as I to follow, while carrying a moping expression. I was like an unwilling dog following his abusive master. He led me a great distance away from my home into a private alleyway, shadowed by the ancient buildings. I followed him doubtfully.

"We need to talk," he said bluntly. I simply looked at him with an idiotic expression. His eyes wandered to my stomach, carrying the child that might be his. "I am responsible for that child." He had said. Though I was complying silently, I believed he knew what was in my mind anyways.

_It might not even be yours…_ I remarked in my thoughts. Though right now it would be extremely safe to pretend it is indeed his. "Is this what you came to tell me?" I asked after he paused for a second. It was so uncharacteristic of him to be so perturbed.

"No…" he paused yet again, thinking of words to say to me. "Sayuri is unaware of our situation. And I want to keep it that way."

I immediately cut him off after that statement. "If you plan on rejecting this child then I have no qualms about it. I planned on raising it on my own regardless of your decisions." Indeed I was being unfair and insolent. However his actions proved to be far more unfair and malicious that night…

Sesshoumaru placed his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to stare him in the eye. I was now afraid of what'd he do next. He was behaving rather atypical from his usual conduct. "What are you doing-…"

"-You can't raise it alone," he said sternly. "I won't let you."

He won't let me?! What is this uncouth man think he's doing?! He might own half of every nation's wealth but he does not have any rights or property over mine! I pulled away from him, totally disgusted with how bigoted his thoughts were of me. "You have no right-…"

"-Rin let me finish." Sesshoumaru was the one not letting me to finish. "You _will_ need my help. A child cannot be reared normally without both parents."

What he said was indeed true. If my parents were still living and breathing I might've escaped this exigent circumstance.

He continued, "I have a proposition."

I had a vague premonition of deceit. The same web of lies are being weaved and I didn't want any part of it.

"I want the child," he confessed. How awfully convenient for me. "But I'm unwilling to give up my fiancée." How awfully inconvenient for me.

I nodded my head as a sign for him to go on and reveal his stratagem.

"I'm sure Monsieur Poulain wouldn't dare expose to you such tragic news but your family business is failing,"

"_I've heard… Times are hard…"_ Those words from the night I listened to their conversation rang in my ears, creating a pang of sadness in my heart. I already knew what he was planning. The truth he spouted was indeed plausible.

"I can arrange for you to reside in my home as a worker. There you will live in the compartments given to exceptional employees and you can raise a child properly there. It's a hidden location and unknown to my business associates and the public excluding one person. You will be completely alienated from the outside world and you will carry a faux identity as my employee."

My chocolate… seemingly peaceful… usually serene eyes bulged with shock. Even though I have foreseen this just moments ago, I couldn't believe Sesshoumaru, an adamant man… so heartless and deceptive… would dare go to these limits only to see that (possibly) his illegitimate child is raised amongst the comforts of his home. Was this his way of showing how apologetic he was that night he said he was sorry?!

It was insane!

A travesty! What plan is this?! Foolishly schemed by this prodigious man?! I could see so many holes and flaws through it that I dare not accept it.

I've clearly shown great distress for he answered me, "It might seem foolish but it will work, Rin. Let me do things my way and it will."

I was dumbfounded. How can it?

"You don't have to answer now," he said. "You can give me your choice a week from now. I will visit you again this time the Poulains will know of it."

I was stupefied. Today I had seen such a flawed side of Sesshoumaru. As of now, he seemed weak and completely idiotic. His humdrum of a plan appeared reckless.

* * *

_I remembered how appalled I was by his straightforward actions. At the time everyone thought it would be unsuccessful and my coming will be seen as a scandalous affair. But who knew, that it was actually a cleverly-thought-out plan? None but Sesshoumaru of course, and a mastermind best friend._

_Even though at the time, I thought the plan fool-hardy, I agreed in the end. Maybe it was because, putting all doubt behind, I knew it was my chance to shine as bright as the lonely moon._

_And where was this chance to shine? In an ancient town known as Versailles. _

* * *

**Author's Note:** LE GASP. I'm sure everyone seems weirded out by Sesshoumaru's actions but there's a reason to it. I was reading it over and I sounded crazy. Oh well. I hope you guys enjoyed it. It was a rather eventful yet at the same time uneventful chapter, was it not? Please review your thoughts. 

If you all hadn't noticed, the italics were Rin's POV in the present. You will see more of those coming. Ah let me tell you people, I have exciting news. Rin's birth will either be written in the chapter after the next one or the chapter of that. Ah I love how fast things are unfolding. I love this story.


	7. The Sound of Snow Falling

**Author's Note:** After publishing chapter 6 approximately 18 hours ago, I had a dreaded feeling inside of me that people will loathe the turn of events. My oh my. I wish all of you were there to see my reaction when I read the reviews as I checked my e-mail at exactly 8:40 pm Eastern Time. Not only was I shocked (in a good way), I was also laughing… very… very…. Hard. Here I was, sweating with nervousness thinking people will bash my lack of skills for storytelling. And here I am laughing at how ridiculous I could be! I want to say thank you! Thank you! I'm also glad people find that I don't lack unoriginality and that my "Parisian setting" is "delightful". You know who you are and I want to thank you once more (smilie face). Another reviewer also mentioned that I write short stories. It made me a bit sad (not in a depressed way… just in a lazy way) since it feels like a year passes after I finish writing one. A person mentioned that the reason why it seems the story isn't popular is because I didn't enable anonymous reviews… I didn't?! I thought it was enabled all along! Double-u-tee-eff mate? I quickly slapped myself and tried to change my settings. I did and that was helpful. I checked in reviewer's guide only to find a description for anonymous and signed reviewing (I was laughing my ass off to see how they described people writing anonymous reviews as "individuals too lazy to log in". LOL!)

Again to Memoirs of a Geisha. Someone caught on with the Sayuri reference. Yes I stole the name from the novel. No it's not the actual Sayuri. I hope that clears it up. (if I made her to be indeed the actual one [which I must mention that I didn't as you can see from my description of her… sayuri has gray eyes whilst Sayuri in this fic has dark black I wouldn't put her in a dreadful position as being the ignored fiancée of Sesshoumaru who is fated to disappear sometime in the story). It's a beautiful name and so is its meaning (there are different interpretations to this name due to the several ways it can be written in kanji). Anyways… ENOUGH WITH THE LENGTHY A/N'S! Here's chapter 7.

* * *

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**Chapter 7: The Sound of Snow Falling**

Versailles was a jewel lost in the abyssal heart of France, for it was smothered by the ever-increasing radiance of Paris. It wasn't far from where I lived. Heck! it is, in a way, where I live. Versailles was cleverly situated geographically in a way that it has become a suburban commune of Paris in recent years. That's why at first, I didn't understand why of all places, he chose Versailles. My mind has touched upon that subject as my awareness unconsciously meandered away through the recent days. The reality was that I would soon be removed from my home only to be clandestinely placed in a private home of his in Versailles. The _thing_ was… I chose to disregard it for my remaining days and pretended that such events will never happen.

I hadn't told the Poulains of any of Sesshoumaru's plans. The reason being is that my intuitive mind had decided that Sesshoumaru implied Monsieur Poulain saw this coming (due to the prior conversation they had that dinner) and even if they remain clueless, I'm sure he will be so conniving when explaining that they will agree to it.

Despite all of this, one would think I should be joyous to know I will soon "belong" to the man I have been so enamored to. I remembered how I've been childishly dreaming of a chance to share a romantic relationship with this fiendish man. However, even through all the name-calling and animosity, I still carried feelings for him... feelings which will never be realized. Instead of conceding to such petty emotions, I wove a hateful thread to mask my deplorable self. Besides, I had known all along this plot was his selfish scheme of greedily keeping the two seemingly reverent aspects of his life: a beautiful woman (who is shamefully not me) and an illicit child (which might even be his but his best friend's mind you!).

As each day crawled to a week, I had noticed Monsieur Poulain grew busier and busier with his errands, and coincidentally, men of authority would frequently bother our homes, searching for my adoptive father. It was then I knew the real weight of his situation. He wasn't running errands. He wanted to avoid his condemned fate and the debauched authorities who dared interfere with his innocent life. Madam Poulain on the other hand, wasted most of her days forgetting her grief by busying herself with the most scrupulous of things.

It was then that I felt a shameful emptiness inside of me, as if I didn't' deserve the fortune bestowed upon me by escaping the upcoming disaster the Poulains awaited. Why was it that the timing for everything… was all too perfect?

* * *

The day Sesshoumaru came to collect me, was a forlorn day. Though it was late November, it had eccentrically snowed. When I woke from my deep slumber only to be embraced by the frosty talons of a winter wind, I immediately looked out of my window, to see that the clouds had been mourning. Instead of the downpour of watery tears they usually cried, they cried frozen flakes of sorrow. It was a soundless illusion of the earth's barrenness, draping the frigid soils with its alabaster blanket… The sound of snow falling.

By the time I had worn my winter attire and descended to the 1st floor, I could see from the shop window that the snow rapidly accumulated to ivory mounds along the Parisian streets. And the town was overshadowed by gray skies which cast upon Paris a gloomy atmosphere. Seeing such a dejected side of Paris put my heart in extreme disarray.

"Ah, I see you're awake," called out a rather glum Monsieur Poulain, who quietly sat by himself near the store counter, staring down at the instruments his crafty hands had produced all his life. The sad certainty of his passion and life's work being stolen away had caused him to grow decrepit.

I nodded my head politely and greeted him with such feathery soft words, "Good morning, mon père." My father (as it is in French) was a phrase I used when I felt that a genuine form of affection was lacked by my adoptive friends. Though they were meager words to others, they were words of love for the Poulains.

"How's the child?" he asked without a sense of curiosity.

I rubbed my stomach, looking fondly at it. "It's getting bigger and a great deal heavier. I feel that my belly is slowly sliding down with the child."

His aging lips curled into a cheerless smile, a smile clearly soaked in regret. Monsieur Poulain's eyes studied every corner and inch of the shop as if to etch each image into his mind. "I remember," he said nostalgically, "the time we took you in, more than a year ago." He tried his best to laugh, but it was such a depressing one, I couldn't help but frown. "Back then, we always wished for at least a child… and you were there with chocolate eyes so adorable… and yet so weak. It was as if," he paused and stared at me, "you were asking for someone to save you."

Although it was only a year ago, it seemed so far away. My life was so different then.

"Such a fleeting yet memorable year…" he sighed with much wistfulness. "Months ago, when signs of this terrible… business… were popping up out of nowhere… we thought… as long as we could keep you, it would all be fine. We would all still be a family."

The rims of my eyes were wet with tears. He had known… All along he had known of Sesshoumaru's devious scheme… How much of the whole truth he knew, I didn't bother to care. All that was apparent and significant was that he knew of my surreptitious departure and he carried such truth in his heart, by himself. I felt like a disgusting creature. "I'm sorry…"

He nodded his head, as if agreeing that I should apologize. As if agreeing, that it was all my fault and responsibility. With that, Monsieur Poulain slowly walked away to his room, like a man of guilt marching to his damned death. I only stared at my father's way, desperately wishing that maybe we could still be a family, despite everything he said. We could… but I knew as sure as the winter's dreaded coming… such thing would never happen.

* * *

From inside my bedroom, I watched as Sesshoumaru left his car and ordered the chauffer to park somewhere nearby while navigating through the deep, tainted snow to enter our house. I lay on my bed, with a mountain of quilts to warm me in my most miserable hour with a river tears flowing down my blanched face.

_I don't want him to come…_

I sniffed while wiping the tears away with my sleeve. Although I was supposed to be prepared for his arrival, I tenaciously remained with my sleeping gown pretending to be dormant in this drab afternoon. Watching the snow descend so gracefully to the pale mounts on the city streets, I cried thinking he won't dare enter my room, pick me up, and force me to live such solitary life in this private home of his.

Minutes soon flowed with time and I was aware he waited for me down stairs with the Poulains for I heard their muffled voices in the uncanny silence of my room. I was indifferent to the time and Sesshoumaru. _Let him wait…_

"Where is she?" his voice was coarse and I could barely hear it. At the sound of things, I shut my eyes closed, thinking, _tell him to leave… Please tell him to leave._

I heard more voices which were barely perceptible. However, that didn't stop him. I soon heard the creaking floor boards of the stairs as they were pounded by an approaching Sesshoumaru.

When a few more foot steps could be heard, an uneasy silence erupted. _Where was he now?_ I prayed to whatever omnipotent beings out there to tell this man to leave, for I am too weary for his foolish games.

Then… a confounded noise eradicated all hopes. It was as if someone slaughtered me with an axe! Oh his voice was terribly painful to hear.

"Rin?" Through the wooden door, he was incoherent. He knocked softly a couple times, but I didn't answer. I kept myself passive, rebelling against his wishes.

_Whatever you do, don't come in!_ My mind screamed out to him, thinking that he might hear these inaudible words and influence him to change his course of actions. However, the Gods hated me. Yes they _loathed_ me. They want to see me shackled in hell with Satan and all his evil minions, one of them being Sesshoumaru! (It's clear what an impact this man has on me, making me into a heretic!)

When it was clear I would not respond, he impertinently knocked on the door, harder. "I know you're there." Yet again he was unanswered. I heard a deep sigh only to be followed by the dreadful opening of a door.

How dare him! That wretched and egotistical man dared enter my room without seeking permission?! And he expects me to live with him?! He makes me want to maniacally laugh my heart out!

Completely agitated, I had thrown the quilts over my whole body, concealing myself from him. I knew such infantile methods wouldn't be successful but I thought it was another way of impeding his grotesque desires and ambitions. Sesshoumaru persistently walked towards my bed at a tortoise's pace, gently sitting on the edge of the bed as he reached me. His weight caused one side of the bed to descend so unevenly, which aggravated me for I was trying to "rest".

"Would you please get off my bed?" I requested begrudgingly. Through the cotton quilts, I could see his form just staring down at me, burning a hole at my frail body. "I am trying to rest due to my emaciated state."

Sesshoumaru scoffed at this, amused by my credulity. He rudely placed his hand at the tip of my protective quilts, and turned it over, revealing the upper half of my body. I furrowed my eyes but faced away from him, shooting glares at the wall. My hands lay limp at one side of the bed, while my hair lay as a pool of black locks amongst the pale sheets.

"Well," he said sympathetically while observing me, "you don't appear sickly. Though I hope you aren't for your body must be delicate during this climate and it would be quite unhealthy for baby." He said it with so much simplicity and earnestness. Did he expect me to fall for his beguile act?

It was all too much. He was being too much. I began to cry, hoping the tears would flood and cleanse me of my mishaps and worries. I hoped it would sanitize my feelings for him so that such circumstances wouldn't be so painful inside.

"You like to play the silent part, but I'm sure you're the talkative one in your mind," he teased. Sesshoumaru placed a soft hand on my shoulder for comfort, creating a prickly sensation. It was so familiar… so close… the feeling of being one with body just like that night… All coldness vanished at his touch.

For an endless second, I had erased all hostility in my heart and dared open my heart for an embrace. However… all it took was one peek at his inexpressive yet gorgeous face and his amber gaze did I return to the memories which suffocated me with melancholy. "You like to play the innocent part, yet in your mind you're tainted with guilt," I retorted, hoping to anger him by the slightest bit.

When I heard no response, I looked back at him only to find an infuriating smirk. "Hmph," he seemed to have said. Sesshoumaru leaned towards my lying body, taking his hand off my shoulder only to have it placed on my cheek where the previous tears had cried, caressing my smooth skin with his faux intentions.

I pushed his hand away, sick of it all. In order to be less vulnerable to his "seductive attacks" I sat up with great difficulty, having to mind my enormous womb since it ached in the slightest of movements. I pulled myself closer to the headboard and father from Sesshoumaru (who sat conveniently at the foot of the bed) whilst pouting at him.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I asked accusingly. I clutched at the ocean of sheets for protection, hoping that they may veil my shameless cowardice. "Here you are, coming with that farce self-righteousness of an act!" My heart, desired more than anything, to release even more spiteful words to him… words that may open his eyes to the veracity of my emotions. Abstruse words which were buried so long ago in this snow-filled heart…

_Do you even remember me?_

Although I deny it back then and even now, but nothing made me happier than hearing him tell me, that one summer day months ago, that he remembered me… And to see such lie to have been exposed… to see such man be exploited by his own actions… I would've cried. I really would've. But perhaps my tears dried out and I was thankful. Weeping after all, causes helplessness… a state which you wouldn't want to be in while in front of Sesshoumaru.

Sesshoumaru took a deep breath, as if readying himself for an elaborate explanation for his actions. "All my life, I've never admitted myself to committing a mistake," he said. Though there was some emotional yet subtle meaning to it, his monotonous voice seemed imperfect and unfitting for telling such tale. "When I see one right in front of me, I want to take responsibility." He shot such poignant eyes at me, an achromatic glimpse of the authenticity of his words were clearly shown. "Though I may have the reputation a selfish tycoon would acquire in his years of success, I still have compassion and I'm willing to give it to an illegitimate child if I have to." He didn't smile, he didn't frown, he didn't cry (when did he ever?), he didn't scowl, and neither did he show any other valuable expression. Instead he simply gazed at me, waiting for approval of his decision.

Truthfully, I didn't exactly know how to react to this. I didn't know if I should trust him or consider his words as blasphemous trickery. So… I had done what could probably trigger the fated annihilation of this blessed world… I smiled. Was it a mocking smile? A disbelieving smile? An amused smile? Or a sad one? Suffice to say, it was undecipherable. But I knew I was relieved. I wasn't exactly happy but I was relieved. Even if he did lie about it, to show such determination to me was enough.

Right now, this is convenient for me. Right now is the opportune moment I needed to begin life anew. Lie or truth? What did it matter? His words were still genuine even if they didn't come from his mouth. Even more than that, he was the only person who showed he cared.

I had no idea what came upon me… what commenced such boldness… but in that second of relief, I had closed up all distances between him and me and I fearlessly let myself, unwelcome into his arms. I could tell he was uncomfortable by the way he was stifling his arms from responding to such an affectionate expression, but I was weak. I was wrought in grief. I was about to leave my home, once more under the wing of this man whom I loved and hated so much… the only man who could stir and arouse such spontaneous and genuine feelings in me.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

After returning to the Poulains and explaining to them my decision, Sesshoumaru left for a short while with his chauffeur, saying he had to confirm arrangements. And shortly as his car drove away, I watched as that tiny black dot soon faded away into chasm of winter. He left me with the Poulains for a couple more hours to say our farewells and pack my belongings.

While in my room, Madam Poulain helped me arrange my clothing and tiny the room which will soon be officially vacant, I reflected upon the unimportant and miniscule moment of intimacy I shared with Sesshoumaru, feeling elated by such thoughts. "It's funny," I alluded cheerily, "things went by so fast…"

On the other hand, Madam Poulain was understandably dismal, having lost both their daughter and their source of commerce. She held up a blouse she bought for me a great deal of time ago and folded it while appearing to be looking over memories of it. "Indeed they have," she tried her best, giving an old smile to encourage such selfish happiness in me while cupping my cheek with a motherly touch, "although it was only a year… it feels as though you've always been with us." Madam Poulain sniffed as she grew teary-eyed. Before I could witness anymore painstaking sadness, she held me in her arms the same way she did when they first learned of my pregnancy.

"I love you too." I said it as if replying to something I hadn't heard. Throughout my days with the Poulains we hadn't exchanged such demonstrative forms of appreciation, but we knew it in our hearts. I just decided to remind them that nothing changed.

* * *

I left the heart of Paris that night when all that was serene had finally swept this frozen paradise and the once gray sky was now heavily bolded with darkening streaks which hinted to the coming twilight. Sesshoumaru had taken me into his familiar car, with the luxurious leather seats (which I failed to mention earlier as a child), tainted windows, and gentle speed, sitting next to him as I left the familiar block where I spent a small portion yet momentous days of my life. Our destination was a suburban commune southwest of Paris, Versailles; the once glorious city of the monarchy.

We sped past prominent buildings of outstanding architecture, which soon blended in with the cold winds, becoming vague silhouettes. As time passed by, I noticed that the buildings soon disappeared one by one, and the vicinity, which used to be the familiar and thriving liveliness of the towering Paris, soon transformed into a land which was dotted with a few buildings and duplexes. Even with the snow, one could spot the dry and lifeless fields of grass which veiled the vast land of Versailles. The streets were more sanitary and less congested, having a wide geographic span.

_This was Versailles._

Sesshoumaru spoke in Japanese to his chauffer, which I took to be words of direction. After years in France, I barely understood my native language and was slightly ashamed of it. Nonetheless, I went under the pretense that I wasn't ignorant of my culture and continued on peering at the rather alien surroundings.

Although Versailles was now considered part of the anatomy which made Paris, one can't help but study such differences. A Parisian such as I was accustomed to the flourishing and hectic lives which bloomed so rapidly in the major city. There were towering buildings centered for businesses, numerous structures situated for tourism, and a colony of boutiques waiting to be invaded by the affluent wives of Parisian tycoons. However, Versailles was completely foreign. It was more peaceful… a town which seems to have been asleep all these years… lost in the slumber, dreaming of its fruitful history. It was an isolated haven, especially on a day, as turbulent as this.

Along the way, the driver took a suspicious turn down a dirt road, which was nearly paved though it needed improvement. "Where are we going?" I asked curiously. I was rather excited, almost forgetting that I had quite a depressing day.

The car was now under the protection of a road lined with dense, leafless woods. There were barely any patches of snow on the ground due to the fact that they embellished only the lifeless arms of the gray trees, creating a silver sheen amongst their morbid forms. Due to the fact that this road was quite the isolated spot, my sagacity told me we were headed for Sesshoumaru's infamous and arcane home. My mind went through a sense of awe and enticement. I didn't care if my reactions appeared childlike but this appeared to be some sort of adventure!

As if reading my mind, Sesshoumaru gave this delighted grin, as if proud by how awed I was. "You are looking at," he said nonchalantly, "your new home."

I was utterly mystified. At the end of the dirt road was a marble gate cast white, as if trying to mirror the snow itself. On top of the marble gate protruded iron spikes, meant to pierce any intruder dare ruin the safe haven built by this powerful man. The gate created a mirage in which it appeared to be endless, as if concealing another world inside its protective shelter.

In the middle of the road, became visible the majestic iron entrance gates. It was a true workmanship of metal for the iron bars were formed in a way that none could pass through them while at the same time presenting beautiful artistry and patterns on its cold bars. Magically enough, it opened as the car was about to enter to reveal a vast ocean of snow blanketing the thousands of acres of land Sesshoumaru owned. The car rode on a clear pathway and as drove further ahead, we circled around a lavish and magnificent fountain with a huge basin as the foundation and topped with smaller bowls (which decreased in size as it elevated), made out of pure marble. Due to the weather, the water wasn't left to run for it to show its true elegance, but it was solemnly filled with a murky pool of water, partially frozen.

I let out a gasp. I've never seen such a decorative display of wealth in my whole life! And to think that I will soon grow accustomed to such glamour. "This is amazing Sesshoumaru!" I said, dazzled, while peering out the cold window.

Sesshoumaru appeared unperturbed by all of it. After all, he probably sees such things in his life on a daily basis. "You haven't even seen the house yet," he boasted. But at least he could defend such arrogance…

The car slowed down as it neared what appeared to be a manor, similar to the design of the famous, Le Chateau de Versailles. Thinking about it now, Sesshoumaru's status is on par with that of the Sun King's (King Louis XIV). The mansion was probably three to four stories tall and looked like it was divided into four wings (north, south, east, and west wing), and it was rather large in the sense that it looked as if it could occupy a whole village or almost all of a town. Throughout its alabaster exterior, the manor was heavily implied with a little bit of gothic architecture at the same time mostly bearing a style of renaissance. French windows were placed in a sort of grid formation all over the manor; with balconies lavished with flowers and exotic plants meant to live through the winter (I later learned that the gardeners domesticate plants according to seasons). How extravagant! To think I could live here…

Seeing my adoration, Sesshoumaru cared to please me with more exciting news, "This isn't my only properties. If you dislike this one you can choose from my many other homes in France, America, England, or even in Japan if you wish to return to that country. After all, that's where my main business is."

Such heavenly thoughts and living filled me with euphoria, causing my lips to stretch as much as they can to form a gleeful smile and my eyes clearly beamed with bliss. Although right now I was being materialistic, you can't help me for rejoicing over such a delicacy in life.

"Although on the surface you are an employee of mine, you can choose any of the one hundred and fifty rooms of the main wing (the north), and there are caretakers or maids who work during my absence to watch over the manor for you to call upon."

The way he explained it made me sound like a concubine or his mistress (which in reality, I sort of am). But it didn't matter. I was to live a life of prosperity and peace… with my own privacy… wait… privacy… I forgot one detail!

I quickly resumed to my serious manner, "Does your fiancée reside here too?"

Sesshoumaru cocked an eyebrow, dazed by this peculiar change of subject. "She lives for now in one of the apartments I own in Paris. Unfortunately for you, she has the very right to visit this property if she wishes."

Such news quickly deflated my bubble of joy. I didn't want to be near that woman and neither do I want my child to be. If anything she might suspect my stay in there…

"You don't need to worry too much. She likes to stay in one place and she is aware of your coming here, but of course she assumes this is an act of generosity towards the Poulains," he said. It was indeed plausible that he would do such a thing for them, which is why I doubt she suspects anything after hearing that. (Of course I also thought that if he can indeed have such power, why didn't the Poulains move in with me? This was answered later in my years of marriage. It seems their inane and insane pride told them to strive for their business.)

When the car stopped, the chauffer got out and opened the door for me, helping me out as I was followed by Sesshoumaru.

"Shall I show you to your room?" Sesshoumaru asked, holding out his hand like a true gentlemen.

I smiled mischievously, "Oui, monsieur, you may." And I took his hand as he courteously walked me inside.

* * *

**A/N:** That was a long chapter. Thoughts? Haha! I love this story. Now all the scandal, drama, and romance commences! I'm sorry if our two lovers are a bit OOC here. I really tried my best. Well review folks! 


	8. Il Neige Quand Vous N'êtes Pas Ici

**Author's Note:** Thank you again for your helpful, inspiring, and motivating reviews. I really can't believe how many people like this fic. So, I was re-reading my story again, and oh my god… TYPOS! One of them was "This isn't my only properties…" when Rin first saw Sesshoumaru's manor. C'mon! Why do I suck at this?! Haha! It makes me sound like a 3rd grader. And it depresses me a little because if I decide to write professional in my distant future (I can't believe I'm going on high school) my future editor will be so irritated at my lack of proof reading. Sigh. Haha. Well here we go. It's rather short this time.

You know, I've been thinking about Sesshoumaru's age. In my story, I never really stressed their age difference (which is quite a big gap in this story) but since Sesshoumaru will make appearances more often than ever maybe things will start coming up.

Someone said they enjoyed my line about the snow (it was a poetic description of the snow from last chapter), and I want to say thanks. To be honest, I used to write several haikus of snow a lot. I don't know why… I'm rather fond of snow, especially writing poems about it.

Chapter 8 is French for, "It snows when you're not here." Cheesy but very fitting.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Il Neige Quand Vous** **N'êtes Pas Ici**

_Who knew what an amorous yet extremely deceitful man he could be? I thought that change was finally upon him when he had so generously offered to me love and a desirable home. But how could one be so naïve and live with such hopeless wishes? During those days in the manor, I remember being so infinitely happy. I cherished such glad tidings deep into my heart, embracing it with all the protection I can, in fear that they may be taken away in a single second. But such treasure could only be lost once more._

_Winter is the cruelest fever… drowning my heart into its icy waters, I held out my hands only for his touch, but to find it gone._

_Why did it snow when he was no longer there?_

* * *

Although living in a titanic manor might seem appealing at first, it's rather an arduous path women of nobility often have to suffer, especially when one is quite lonesome. On my way to my room, I had to make frequent stops, which Sesshoumaru was surprisingly patient about. Due to my ever-growing baby (which begins to weigh more like a canon ball every second), Sesshoumaru decided that a room situated in the 2nd floor would be most suitable, but in the end even one staircase was quite laborious!

The foyer was rather large… excuse me… _very_ large. It covered the same space a majestic ballroom would've. The main ceiling was a _real_ treasure as it was ornamented with a brilliant and phenomenal chandelier, exotically bejeweled with millions of minuscule crystals hanging by circular frames, gleaming gold where sticks of candles sat, illuminating the pale room with a vibrant, amber flare. Other than that, the ceiling was gilded at its corners and perimeter with even more gold, creating exquisite patterns, hypnotizing the eye while an enormous painting was illustrated upon the ceiling. It was a scene of infant angels innocently floating upon the cotton soft clouds with their minute wings; the way the different shades of blue, white, gold, and silver blended in to a flow of beatific reverie could easily soothe the fears of one's heart. In the center was built two marble stairs which wound together, forming into a platform at the top, leading to (what I later discovered as) a maze of rooms. Everything… the designs, the vain decors, the colors… it was truly perfect! I've never seen such a display of absolute perfection in my life! It felt like I was indeed in the _real_ "Chateau de Versailles."

_Who knows? I might be the modern day Marie Antoinette!_ I giggled at the impossible yet ironic idea. It didn't occur to me how frivolous I was being.

Sesshoumaru helped me up one of the winding stairs, gently guiding my hand while my other was clutching so nervously at the ivory railing. After four meager steps, I found myself panting and close to perspiration, cursing my child for being so heavy. "So…" I said while frequently gasping, "Who was the genius… who dared create such a strenuous work of beauty?" He put a hand against my back, which was constantly leaning backwards. It was a bothersome habit of mine born after reaching four months of pregnancy; it was my body's way of maintaining the weight pressuring my vertebrae. But I think he was just frightened I might find myself falling into such a tragic accident. (Even if he was, he didn't show it)

Sesshoumaru leered at the question, "None other than the only man who could possibly be the only human being on par with my prodigious brain."

I raised an eyebrow at this conceited statement. "I can't imagine one who could be such," I remarked sarcastically as we climbed with much effort further into the second floor. (How many steps do these stairs have?!)

"Why my dear," he said joining my sarcasm, "none other than my loyal and ingenious friend, Naraku."

My legs froze as we took the last step onto the platform. Immediately my body grew numb and an incommodious kick emerged from my child, as if wondering why I had to stop such rocking moments so suddenly. A portentous chill caressed every inch of my skin, and suddenly everything was a lot colder. Why is that name so malignant to my ears?!

"Is something the matter?" he eyed me suspiciously, boring his eyes into my apprehensive face, as if trying to read my bewildered thoughts.

I shook my head in reply, but didn't verbally answer. _That's right…_ as Sesshoumaru walked ahead of me in order for me to follow, I watched him with such a regretful pang beating nervously beneath the cage of my chest. _He doesn't know… that this child might not be his but his best friend's…_

The very thought haunted me. What if the child was indeed Naraku's and instead of my traits being mirrored into the infant, it's his?! What would I do?! Surely Sesshoumaru would be beyond angry with me and such secrets could sever the innate tie which bound them as closely as companions. What have I done?! If we were found out, such misery could befall me! I would be the whore I truly am, living the imperfect life I despised and ridiculed!

"You've been awfully quiet," said the ever observant Sesshoumaru, immediately shattering the taunting thoughts which drowned my mind into supreme grief. "I expected you to complain while meeting my obstacle of a home."

I laughed solemnly at this, half thinking of him and half trapped in my mind. "Kind of you to notice," I remarked, but it came out harshly… more than I intended.

When we reached my room (after crossing endless and painstaking corridors… sometimes I wondered if we were going in circles!) I was immediately awed by how elegant it all was. And perfect.

It wasn't the largest room one could find (after looking through the 99 other rooms, I found that 10 on the highest floor were the size of an apartment). But it was rather spacious, occupying probably the whole first floor of my previous home. Sesshoumaru was gracious enough as to give me the only room with a veranda which overlooked the rolling hills of his expanse of a backyard. I mean it literally when I say it has a million acres (though much of it was obviously a hyperbole).

The French window which led to the veranda was so tall that it could've reached the ceiling. I was later told that the purpose of this was so that the natural light could reach every corner of this bed chamber. It was draped with silk curtains, which was embroidered with expensive Italian designs. The bed itself was a wonder, being able to carry about ten people! It was elegantly carved from oak with a canopy laced with dark satin draperies, contrasting to the color of the room beautifully. And next to the bed was a simple bedside table carrying an expedient luxury, a telephone.

"Each room has its own bathroom," Sesshoumaru explained monotonously as I stared in adoration at such simple yet subtly admiring artistic workmanship. "There will be maids sent her by tonight to help you with your directions and emergencies. Their chambers are supposed to be on a different wing but for your case they'll be taking rooms on this floor."

I nodded by head to his uninteresting talk, observing more of the hidden details lying in my new home.

"Your luggage will be delivered here soon by the chauffer, but for now you'll have to stay put…"

I placed a hand on the cold windows, which for now, sheltered me from the harsh climate of winter. Looking out, one could see the ocean of trees, looming over the untouched soil as night crept in. It amazed me that this was my new home. From orphanages, to carnivals, to a lower middle class house, and then this!

"I'll be leaving now…"

The announcement of his abrupt departure interrupted my thoughts. "Where to?" I questioned. I didn't know what was on my mind which made me believe he would stay for my sake. Here he was again, picking me up and dropping me off only to be left alone in the solitary wilderness of unrequited love.

He looked at me sternly. My eyes pleaded with him to inform me with such information, although in all honesty, I had a vague idea of where he was going. And in a sense, I half wished I remained ignorant.

"To Sayuri's. I have to talk to her about something."

I pouted but I quickly masked the dismayed emotions whirling in my heart. The answer had truly been something I wished I was ignorant of. Once my bedroom doors closed, signaling his leave, I released an exasperated sigh. _If you like her so much… then why do you always come back to me?_ My heart went through a storm of disarray and soon, tempting thoughts of spite aroused.

_If only she was gone…_

Heinous yet unrealistic schemes were brewing in my feeble mind, creating impossible ways of getting rid of her in his life. There were random ideas of simply spouting out the truth about us to her, but I doubt such thing will ever transpire, even if I was seriously planning it. More ideas flowed and none of them would've worked. I realized in the end, the only possible way of ever enlightening her with such a sad truth would be to show her my child once it's born (of course it would only be effective if it had adapted Sesshoumaru's traits).

Amidst my selfish hatred, a hunger rumbled in the bellows of my stomach, grumbling for it to be satiated. "Hold on," I cheerily whispered at my tummy (though one might think me mentally impaired for doing so) as I softly thumped it with my palm, as if reprimanding my child for even having the nature of hunger. "I don't even know where the kitchen is, let alone my way back to the entrance…" I grumbled to myself. Minutes passed and soon the burden of my heavy heart began to lighten due to my untamed hunger. Once in a while I felt a kick or two inopportunely reminding me that I had to eat for two people.

"I'm too hungry to even move…"

I fell down the cushions of my bed, lying amongst layers and layers of finely woven blankets, made especially for winter. It was a rather large bed, so I in fact was only lying next to the foot of the bed, with almost three fourth's of it still left for more exhausted bodies.

"You should've left me food, Sesshoumaru," I complained to my non-existent lover (though he is actually existing next to a different woman). I gazed solemnly out to the vast horizons which now belonged to me, yet for some reason, even with all this wealth and land… my heart remained empty.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I was so lost in the havoc of my emotions that my eyes fluttered into deep sleep dreaming of something so vague yet gratifying. When I finally awoke, my eyes were overwhelmed by the pitch black darkness which surrounded me. Searching for any source of natural light, I looked at the window only to be disappointed to find a new moon.

_So you left me too?_ I thought pessimistically…

Feeling my surroundings, I noticed I was completely covered in a mountain of covers, with my head softly cushioned upon feathery pillows, so soft and comforting I didn't want to leave. I thought this was rather peculiar. After all, I was at the foot of the bed if I remember correctly…

There was an uncanny silence which hovered in this room, so when I heard the silent creak of my door opening, I jumped out of sudden fright. "Who's there?" I called out, hoping silently that it wasn't some uninvited guest. Then again, I didn't even invite any guests…

"Pardon, madam," replied a feminine voice, sweet and very friendly. Glimmering bronze light emerged from the opening of the door, creating a golden pillar amongst the shadows of the floor. My eyes were unable to spot anything through the pitch black darkness, except for a silhouette of a woman standing by the doorway.

A white light suddenly bathed the room, erupting from a tiny chandelier, feeble compared to the one in the vestibule.

"Forgive me for intruding so unexpectedly," the woman said, smiling as if excited to serve. She walked towards me with her feet taking such small steps that it looked like she was gliding. Her arms were occupied with a tray made of platinum carrying a china dish which contained pasta, a slice of bread, and roasted beef. As for my drink, there was only a simple grapefruit juice ironically contained in a crystal wine glass. "But orders from the master were to serve you your food every four hours," she said, implicitly informing me of her occupation in this manor.

"Thank you," I said while taking this opportunity to study her more closely. Her sandy hair was as unruly as it could ever be, scrappily tied up in a bun, with a couple locks here and there loose as they rained down her slender neck. Due to my neurotic personality, I developed an obsessive urge to fix her hair and straighten it. Her skin was extremely fair, however splotched with gauche freckles dotted here and there.

"What's your name?" I asked curiously. She looked at my eyes, only to reveal her tense yet soft gray eyes, a rather peculiar color even in France.

She nodded her head curtly, meekly replying, "Isabelle, madam."

Isabelle, though had an awkward presence about her, was rather young but was unfortunate to be born with such a fidgety yet rigid body. Even while speaking she would subconsciously scratch the back of her neck or impetuously run her willowy fingers along the obstreperous hair. What stroke me as peculiar was that, despite her bony frame, she carried an almond-shaped head, round and infantile. It was like a baby's head placed on an ailing woman's body.

"Madam…" I said to myself, unused to the sudden change of status. "I'm not that old," I scoffed to myself. However (I'm only seventeen…), Isabelle took the statement to heart, thinking I was having ill thoughts of her courtesy.

Her gray eyes bulged like a vulture's. It was a habit of hers, I presumed, to signify her apprehension or confusion. What an ambiguous woman… She innocently and repetitively bowed her head to me, while frantically saying, "I'm sorry ma… mademoiselle! I didn't intend to insult you so!"

_She acts like a child_, I thought but not out of spite. I was rather amused with her gullible spirit. This woman must be older than me by a couple years or less yet she's treating me like I'm the queen of France! But in a sense, I _am_ queen of this manor.

"It's alright," I said, hoping to release her from her worries. Despite her capriciousness, she was extremely couth therefore I didn't dare show animosity so needlessly. "Tell me, Isabelle," I said wonderingly, "what time is it?"

Isabelle managed to leave behind such erratic behavior and answered me curtly, "It's eleven o'clock, mademoiselle."

At her answer, I picked up my fork, ready to eat. My child must've been starving after all this time…

As if my stomach overthrew my brain, reigning over my body, I rudely stabbed at the meat and chewed it boorishly, savoring the tender juices and aromatic taste. Isabelle didn't seem appalled by this and continued watching me with such a detached manner. Her way of observing me gave me a very distinctive paranoia in which I felt I was under scrutiny. In order to prevent her from doing something so rudimentary without seeming disciplinary or tyrannical, I aroused within our dull atmosphere, an interesting conversation. The conversation was directed more towards Isabelle, her history, her habits, her personality. Not to say I was interrogating her, oh no! I was merely making a convenience of our time while I devoured so sluggishly the delicious food.

What I learned from Isabelle weren't exactly the most breath taking or ground breaking sort of story one would hear. Though it was simple it kept my curiosity under a polite level (meaning I was half interested). Isabelle came from a peasant family such as me (though I didn't dare enlighten her with my bleak history). She's one of the forty servants assigned to care for the mansion regardless of Sesshoumaru or any of his guests being absent or not (and since I'm quite the lonesome guest, she will be staying in the room next door). Other than that, she indulged me with trivial things such as her age. Isabelle is uncharacteristically a twenty-three year old who has to work to care for her ill mother and her gambling father (quite the cliché yet pitiful story). Before her father became a gambling zealot, they were once affluent and lived in the better part of Paris. Due to the schooling she underwent during her childhood, she's quite fluent in German, Spanish, French, and English.

She only asked me one question throughout the whole time. It was a question regarding my maternity. "How many months far are you?"

I answered delightfully, "I'm nearing five months."

After I completed my meal, I leaned back at my horde of pillows, rubbing my swollen abdomen, thinking there's no way the coming months could make my child any bigger than it is (I later learned in my ninth month that this sort of condition is a bowling ball compared to the final size).

"If you're still hungry, Miss… I can fetch dessert. The kitchen is conveniently placed in the same wing, although it's at the basement," she humbly offered while collecting my tray. "The bathroom is right on the left of your walk-in closet, Miss. There's a rather large tub I can fill for you if you'd like." I nodded my head in acceptance.

Oh you can't imagine how luxurious I feel.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

One might call me a whore or a wanton seductress reaping in the benefits of the philanderer who "dared plant a seed on my virgin belly" (I laugh at that phrase. I'm even more bemused at the fact that the philanderer might not be the father!). However, the pain and the emotional anguish such travesty could bring do not compare to the soothing sensation which has swept my body as I lay in this built-in bath tub made of pure ivory with water pumped directly from the nearest springs. The herbal mists which rose so elegantly from the steamy water quickly massaged away my aching worries.

"Will this do?" Isabelle asked with a pleased smile, as if satisfied at her ability to entertain her mistress.

I nodded my head as I shut my eyes, closed, relaxing at the smooth edge of this cleansing bathtub.

"I will be in my room, Miss. If you need me, you can dial the number 34 on your phone next to your bed. It corresponds to the phone in my room." And with that she left… probably to tidy up things.

It's truly amazing the human nature. Just a while ago I was dreading the fated departure with my family and here I am now, greedily basking under the light of prosperity, swimming in its ocean of gold!

During my time there, I quickly reflected on blissful thoughts and memories. Oddly enough, my mind went as far back as my first arrival in Paris with my late parents. The reminiscent excitement still remained in my heart as I first saw a glimpse of Eiffel Tower and their vague, pearly smiles beaming down at my small form. Such fond memories… Only shattered fragments remained in the recesses of my forgotten life, disembodied from their true beauty and happiness. Now all remains is a sorrow which smothers any obstinate light of a hopeful future. Such glum thoughts quickly put a frown, disrupting my relaxation.

"I hope you have a better life than I did," I said lovingly, in an almost motherly way to my stomach. It's funny since the child probably can't hear me, and seeing how scandalous its conception is, the chances are slim for a bright future.

* * *

A harsh golden light crept beneath my drowsy eyes, signifying the coming morning. The sky was ominously enclosed by a multitude of silvery clouds, yet despite their massive blockade, they could not shield my weary eyes from the glaring sun. _How cruel…I barely slept thanks to this tiresome child who has an ardent passion for kicking its mother!_ Through the French window, I could see a thin layer of snow still covering the land. It seems this autumn weather isn't enough to maintain such a lavish blessing of nature.

As I rose, my throat unexpectedly swelled, filling me with a gagging urge. _Oh what a pain!_ I hurriedly hopped off the bed, my hands upon my chest, trying to soothe the burning feeling, and I rushed to the bathroom, through the marble floor and to the toilet. Leaning over the bowl, I regurgitated all that I consumed in the previous hours. My morning sickness wasn't as violent as it was during my first few weeks, but they're still quite tedious.

A soft knock came upon my bedroom door, but I was still in the bathroom, rinsing my mouth, eradicating all breath that is vile! After accomplishing this routine mission, I resumed to my bed chambers, answering the door to find Isabelle with my break fast.

"Good morning, Miss," she greeted joyously. I nodded my head and sat on a wooden chair, cushioned with silk pillows beside the French window (which I didn't notice until today) with a tiny, round table, where Isabelle kindly placed my 1st meal. On one plate were a stack of perhaps three pancakes, French toast, eggs, two strips of bacon, and sausages. There was a china platelet sitting with a blueberry muffin beside a glass of orange juice.

"Did you cook all my meals?" I asked. She gently placed the tray in front of me.

"Oh no! I'm not that talented at cooking! There's a live-in chef who resides in the other wing. You'll meet him soon enough," she replied fastidiously. I relished the thought of living with someone you've never met. It's quite amusing.

"Voila! Have a nice meal, Miss." She sat across from me, completely overshadowed by the dim room (only the bed is bathed with morning light). "I also have news for you," she said. I peered up at her while I continued munching as if I've been famished for years!

"Monsieur Sesshoumaru says his friend, Naraku will come by today to help you grow accustomed to this mansion while he finishes much of what he can at work," Isabelle said casually.

My whole body froze, with my fork in the air, about to be consumed in my motionless lips. _What did she say?_ I gawked at her, and the poor, dull girl (well, to be more accurate, woman)! Isabelle began to fidget uncomfortably, scratching at her neck with those vulture eyes, thinking she must've offended me.

"I-…is… there … something wrong?" she stammered. The question broke me from my tension, allowing me to sigh and resume eating.

"Nothing," I shrugged, deep in thought. _Naraku doesn't know about me does he? Even so, if he knows or is to discover of my pregnancy, who knows what might transpire?!_

Isabelle chatted away with insignificant matters. According to her, there will be other servants coming soon today, but they couldn't arrive yesterday due to the fact that they don't live in Paris. She rambled on and on while I subconsciously listened. One of the head staff, the housekeeper, she says, is a young woman named Kagura who's not so delighted about her employment. I couldn't care less. In fact, I didn't really pay attention. Naraku was coming. That was all there is to it.

* * *

Later in the afternoon, I decided to meander into the library, a spacious room located in the West Wing, which Isabelle helped me find (and not to mention arrive at… such a backbreaking work this mansion!). I sat next to a lit fire place, reading a compilation of poems by a famous American poet named T.S. Elliot. As I read more of his somber yet masterful writing, I felt the glowing embers of the fire place softly illuminate my face with their crimson shadows, setting upon scarlet silhouettes in this glum library.

One of the poems, which utterly captivated my attention, drowning it in a pool so wrought in grief, was one of his most famous, The Wasteland.

"_April is the cruelest month, breeding_

_Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing_

_Memory and desire, stirring_

_Dull roots with spring rain._

_Winter kept us warm, covering_

_Earth in forgetful snow, feeding."_

I read more of this intriguing poem. Its enchanting riddle with words clutched at my heart. I flipped the pages to find a work he had written in French, called "Dans le Restaurant". Though the words and lines were simple, they had a subtle sense of authenticity emanating from these old pages.

"_Le garçon délabré qui n'a rien à faire _

_Que de se gratter les doigts et se pencher sur mon épaule: _

'_Dans mon pays il fera temps pluvieux, _

_Du vent, du grand soleil, et de la pluie; _

_C'est ce qu'on appelle le jour de lessive des gueux.'"_

The excerpt translates so beautifully to:

_The decrepit boy who has nothing to do_

_Than to scratch his fingers and look over his shoulder_

"_In my land, in these rainy times, there is wind, a grand sun, and rain._

_It's what we call the day of cleansing of the rouges."_

Why is it that I find these poems, so saddening yet so true to my life?

* * *

I was sitting in the library, many hours later, humbly lowering my head to my invisible lap (thanks to my corpulent stomach) as Naraku entered the room carrying a very temperamental outburst. 

"Well," he began, "Imagine my surprise to hear that Sesshoumaru welcomed someone who's barely an acquaintance to his home."

My eyes twitched at the phrase, "barely an acquaintance," feeling utterly insulted. This ambiguous man dare ridicule me when he himself is part of my problem. "And here you are!" he exclaimed sarcastically, "ripe and swollen."

I scowled at his mockery. I scowled at his crudeness. He acts as if this was all a devious plot to ensnare wealth (though it unintentionally became one). "Does Sesshoumaru know?" I asked, avoiding the subject of his shock.

Naraku looked as if he was contemplating on whether he should answer me or continue his jest. He took a seat across from me on a rather comfortable and conspicuously large couch where he eyed me with much curiosity. "No he doesn't know of that… _time._"

_He speaks with such malice… Just months before he was willing to strip me of my clothing and now here he is! What is this? Envy? Animosity?_

"You can't blame me for being a bit appalled," he remarked as if comprehending my thoughts. "After all, you never spoke a word, and according to Sesshoumaru, neither did you speak a word to him."

Pouting in a way, to capture sympathy, I simply retorted, "How could I? After all, you both discarded me after having done your business." _He must've known I had some sort of intentions with Sesshoumaru during our first formal meeting. What is he so upset about?_

"I pity you," he said but not loathingly. His tone was that of an observer simply studying the outcome of such a predicament, "especially if the child turns out to be mine."

I let out a weary sigh. I was wary of such thoughts, ergo I avoided them. "Don't blame me, blame your disreputable womanizing."

Naraku chuckled, as if he thought our conversation was entertaining. "Well Rin-chan," he said with a Japanese suffix. I thought it odd he had done so. Did he think I remained fluent? "Don't you think this to be a bit inconvenient?"

I raised an eyebrow at his question. What was he talking about? The question of fathers or something else?

"Sesshoumaru and I will be leaving for Japan in a few weeks. His stay in Paris isn't permanent after all."

I looked away from his malign gaze. "He always leaves me, in the end. What should it matter?"

He seemed pleased by this answer. "How sentimental," he mocked. His eyes gleamed scarlet, as if scheming something very malevolent. Naraku slowly rose from his seat, and neared the door as if to exit. "Well aren't you coming? My purpose here is to tour you around the very home I had built."

I gave him a devious smile. "Just like you, this mansion is quite troublesome."

"Pardon me, mademoiselle. You will have to grow accustomed to by inauspicious personality. After all, I visit this mansion quite often," he confessed while grinning as he led me down the hall for dinner.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Naraku only showed me around two wings. Needless to say, it took up a bulk of our time, thus we ceased only to indulge ourselves in a great meal. For the first time, I dined in the great "dinning hall." It was a plain room, with draperies and paintings hung about, containing a rather long, rectangular table, which could seat about thirty guests. We sat at the far end. The meal prepared was extremely delicious, but it was hard to relish due to the awkward silence which befell us. I couldn't bring myself to speak with Naraku. It was too embarrassing especially since I he found out how immoral one could be.

Halfway through the dinner, Naraku brought up a rather peculiar subject. "You're enjoying your meal as I see."

I ignored him, continuing to eat with much politeness.

"Putting all shock and anger aside, I do find myself sympathizing you. You're terribly too young to have a child."

I ceased immediately and eyed him suspiciously. "If you thought me too young for your tastes, then why did you indulge yourself with my body?"

He laughed at this, bemused at my coarseness. Perhaps if he weren't so enigmatic, I wouldn't be so irritable beside him. "Men my age," he replied, "like to indulge themselves to little girls such as you."

What a foreboding answer and irrevocably wanton. First of all I doubt he's too far beyond my age. He isn't some lecherous old man is he? If he was then Sesshoumaru would be too and that would well damage my perspective of him. (I later learned that he and Sesshoumaru are indeed 18 years my senior). Second of all, this would mean he just proclaimed himself as a lecherous pedophile. What strange men have the Gods placed inside my life?

"But now that we're at that subject," Naraku said with such a deceitful premonition. "Help me decipher the unfathomable thoughts of my good friend… Why in the world would he so generously offer a portion of his life and one of his properties to a youthful woman carrying his illegitimate child? Or to be more accurate, a child that could possibly his."

I smiled sarcastically at him, "Maybe he finds me fascinating." There was narcissism in that remark, but I was barely serious, which is why you could realize my perplexity at his response.

"That's not that far from the truth…"

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

After that night, when Naraku was to make his leave, I bid him the honor of escorting him to the entrance door where his car sat waiting on the driveway. Despite the awkwardness and misunderstood animosity, I found Naraku a humorous man, and a sarcastic one at that. His stay here granted me a rather peculiar friendship with him.

"Do you know when Sesshoumaru will return here?" I asked before he left. I'm sure someone as close as he is to the ever-busy man, he would know, so I asked despite how rude it might appear.

Naraku smirked at the question. "I'm not quite sure, but knowing him, he might return as soon as tomorrow." I was confused at the answer. Why tomorrow? But he departed before I could ask any longer. When I watched his car slowly disappear into a meaningless figure into the night, I remained standing in the entryway; half hoping (with much foolishness) that Sesshoumaru might return right at that moment. Of course these lovesick desires never come true. Sometimes, I really loath myself for having fallen into deeper infatuation with his amorous man.

The chilly night breeze invaded my mansion, bringing in a sense of cold loneliness. Even though the snow ultimately disappeared in this day, in my heart it's still snowing.

I could only hope for tomorrow.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Boy that was a long chapter. Fourteen pages in MS word, huh? My average page is around 7. This is great xD! (Although, can you tell, I rushed the last few parts? I was a little bit lazy writing the Naraku parts.) The small section with the poems from T.S Eliot is supposed to give you something to think about. It's not really significant to the storyline. It's funny too, I tried my best translating it (it was quite hard for a novice such as I). I tried online translators but they didn't make sense. Oh well.

Le gasp what could Naraku be planning? Poor Rin. I think you guys will hate me if I actually put it in this story but I'm contemplating on not doing so. Sigh. This chapter, though long, didn't have much going on really. It was to introduce you to the new life Rin is about to enter. And guess what's coming soon? A baby's about to pop up people O! I love how enticed I am.


	9. Au Revoir, Les Jours de Paisibles

**Author's Note:** Time goes by fast. It really does. Not too long ago I began this story with little Rin in Chapter 1. Of course, I sped it up to her late teens. If this was a professional story (like if I wrote it for the purpose of making money), I would've wedged in a chapter or two between chapter 1 and 2 to describe Rin as she grew older. But of course, I don't feel like it xP! But I'm glad people enjoy this story, but I'm sure you would've loved it if I just wrote more chapters. Ah. Now school's about to start. Don't expect fics from me at that time, haha! People also say I update really fast. It's true but I don't update as fast as I used to when I first wrote this story. Right after finishing chapter 1, I completed chapter 2 in a couple hours. Then chapter 3 in like… 5 hours? Now I take a whole day just to finish, and I end up procrastinating too. But that doesn't mean I lost my passion. I still want to finish this story.

**Someone asked me what era or time period does the story take place in. I believe I mentioned in the A/N this story is a special case. Despite the location being enclosed, I decided to let your imaginations run free regarding the time period, so I never mentioned it within the story. If you're asking ME what MY imagination is telling me to write in, I would say 20****th**** century, but not in recent years of course, though it's possible this story could take place in modern times. Though, I believe the jargon being used is a bit, old fashioned? Haha.**

One thing I'd like to add. Don't expect me to add more characters from Inuyasha, and Kagura (though she was mentioned) will not have a significant part here. I'm not really a fan of the anime any longer (it died down a while ago) but the reason why I'm using this pairing is because I have a hard time writing about a different couple. Maybe because of the fact that their pairing is so different and so unique… and not to mention, non-existent… makes it easier for writers to go beyond the world Rumiko Takahashi created with their fantasy of a relationship. I like that. (smilie face).

**Warning:** This chapter will contain some mature content, but not enough that this needs be to rated M or anything. I ask the readers be extremely **mature** and realize that the themes are still tamed and classified under teens. Though I do recommend anyone younger than 12 to stop reading … (but I doubt anyone that reads this is younger than 12).

Here's chapter 9 of The Winter of the Lonely Moon (someone translated it as the Winter of the Solitary Moon. Really it's the same thing but I intended it to be lonely, it's just that French lacks the word lonely). Chapter 9 is French for, "So Long, the Days of Tranquil."

* * *

**Chapter 9: Au Revoir, Les Jours de Paisibles**

_Even after things had settled themselves, and my situation was finally consigned into this debauch world, I still felt so distant to the esoteric man whom I bound myself to. Infidelity, a decadent marriage, indifferent to his own children, marital discord… none of that mattered to me for I selfishly prioritized his love more than anything. Even now while hopelessly waiting for him, I still buried within me a jubilant token of the scarcely found affections he would throw once and about. It didn't matter whether this marriage was ignominiously libidinous or licentious. As long as I had his perfect heart trapped within my lustful talons, then the world will go on as it always had._

* * *

That night, I had such a turbulent sleep, for in my mid-section my baby continuously kicked… no forget kick… bounced everywhere in my rather small womb. Though I was only almost five months pregnant, already the child has become quite the physical being. (I consulted my doctor of this, weeks later, and he said it's unusual but not problematic) I hardly slept. Once my somnolent eyes would begin to flutter shut, I would feel disruptive movement occurring inside of me. _Oh keep me awake even more. I'll beat you with a stick once you grow into a rambunctious child!_ I half jokingly yelled in my mind. I was beginning to become pessimistic of this pregnancy, thinking that in the later future, I will experience even more boisterous activities to transpire. 

The following morning, I thankfully did not vomit (this is the fading away of my morning sickness). _So you are indeed considerate of your mother._ My mind playfully hallucinated a conversation with my child. Only a fetus yet so very delightful (but at this time, the fetus is slowly growing more into an actual infant). I followed my habitual schedule, consuming a rather large yet magnificently delicious breakfast, wandering around the manor, and other thoughtless and wasteful recreational activities. The only atypical part of the day was my formal introduction with the housekeeper. Quite a peculiar character, I find her. Kagura, was it? Out of all the French staff employed for this mansion, she is the only one whose ethnicity is Japanese. Seeing me, she must've assumed I was completely knowledgeable of our culture, greeting me with a foreign language.

"Hajimemashte, watashi Kagura desu," she said, bowing her upper half, gesturing for me to respond. I barely understood her, save for "I am Kagura."

I ineptly bowed the same way she did, but confessed in French, "I regret to inform you I'm not entirely fluent in Japanese. If it pleases you may we converse en français?"

She appeared startled by this, but resumed to her inscrutable manner. "Whatever pleases the mistress." Although I'm sure that was meant to be a gesture of subservience, Kagura's tone was unreservedly rancorous. I immediately understood Isabelle's warning of Kagura's disheartening insolence.

Before I could even dismiss her, Kagura sauntered away, to attend to her duty I suppose. Afterwards, a mass of peons of the like welcomed themselves in my new home, cordially introducing themselves to my ignorant self. Each and of them consigned chivalrously their services to me for my time residing in this domicile.

"Isabelle," I called out while being quiescent upon the comfort of my quarters. It was nearly twilight, with the sun sinking down to its dormant state beneath darkening sky, the horizon gleaming scarlet from the remaining rays emanated by the sun. The room began to dim, with silhouettes dancing upon the chamber walls as the shadows begin to encroach.

Her imbecilic yet pleasant presence appeared beside me, as I continued gazing down the sun. "Did Sesshoumaru reply?" I inquired. Earlier that day I sought his presence to dine with me for the night. Regardless if there were important matters to discuss or not, I wished him here. _He had better comply. This is our problem after all, so if he so much as desires my conformity to his selfish needs, then he must be culpable as well and acknowledge my needs._

While I carped of this abstruse relationship inside the pits of my mind, Isabelle habitually scraped at the nook of her neck, while answering me, "He says he will not have time for dinner…"

I masked any expression of dissatisfaction, and carried a façade of apathy. But despite these futile attempts, Isabelle seemed to have discerned my true, pathetic emotions, for she stared at me so obscurely.

"Ma'am," she continued, "he does say however…"

_However? You asinine woman! Finish the news and don't pause so unnecessarily! For a mere instant I was close to wallowing in my grief!_ I didn't mean to be so distasteful, but she was absolutely ludicrous in a sense that I regret having her in my company. (Of course my opinions of her change often. It's a detrimental result caused by the second trimester of pregnancy). My eyes widened at her, signifying that she must go on.

"… that he will visit shortly to discuss some issues with the mademoiselle."

Discuss some issues? Is this a sort of campaign he's ambitiously running and our relationship is a mere proposal? Well I couldn't have been more aggravated, especially with my rather barbaric doldrums. I vigorously waved my hand at Isabelle, an uncharacteristic gesture for me, dismissing her. I continued to grumble to myself, admonishing my flagrant heart for being so carelessly enamored to a futile pursuit for love.

"Well, I'm pleased to see you lively and odious today," Sesshoumaru mocked as he saw me scowling down at my meal as he entered the dining room hall. He found my cleverly concealed hostility to be abhorrent. Though who could blame him? Here he was housing a naïve and impertinent girl in his house for illicitly carrying a child within her, only to receive no gratification. At the same time, who could blame the girl?

I continued to bashfully disregard his presence, even after he sat himself by my side. His eyes caught sight of my stomach, betraying his usually monotone façade. For a moment, he allowed his eyes to be humorously shocked. "Your stomach is growing rather healthily, and rapidly…" I took offense to what I found to be an obnoxious comment. Though I'm sure he's only stating an innocent opinion. (it is however true. It's only been two days since he last saw me and already he saw a minute change).

"What business, my dear monsieur, do you have with me?" I grudgingly asked. If anyone saw us (which I'm sure the maids did), they would find our spiteful conversation amusingly endearing, like an elderly couple, senile yet devotedly in love.

His golden eyes bored into mine, as if playing a game of fixation. I disgracefully lost this sort of game, for I immediately felt conscious. His gaze could easily make a woman feel shamefully naked. _What is this? A mere trick to behave his opprobrious dog?_ My eyes averted his, and concentrated on the meal.

Sesshoumaru reached within his suit, only to fetch an enclosed letter crested with the cursive writing, Rin. "This," he said, "is a letter from the Poulains, who asked me to personally hand it to you. I didn't read the contents but I'm sure it's a letter of good will."

The mention of their name ruptured my attention. Could it be? A letter from a lost family I've easily thrown into the bottomless vacuum which stored one of my most ancient and sorrowful memories? My fingers snatched the letter from his had, and my heart was anxious to discover what their words to their surrogate daughter could be. I was unaware for my appearance but I'm sure the pretentious acrimony I displayed disappeared, for Sesshoumaru gave me a concerned look.

My fingers quaked as I tore the smooth envelop and retrieved a folded paper.

"_Dear Rin…"_

I recognized the handwriting to be Madam Poulain's, but I was still hesitant yet entranced to read further.

"_I prepared this letter for you days before Sesshoumaru generously offered you a home. Monsieur Poulain and I were actually doubtful of his intentions, but I know deep down inside that Sesshoumaru remains to be the benign boy he was growing up. I'm happy and relieved to know you are living a life of affluence and have a sure place in society. You and your child should rest assured. _

_Monsieur Poulain and I are trying are best to recover from this disastrous fail, but it's alright! We're going to start over as entrepreneurs again. The journey would be difficult yet we'll manage as we did more than twenty years ago._

_But how about you my dear? How are you? Are you lonesome? Sad? Regretful? Don't be. You're in our hearts and we always pray for good tidings to be bestowed upon you. Fate has generously offered me a wonderful daughter this past year and you have been, despite the insignificant mistakes you've made. I hope to see you again soon after we settle things with our debt collectors._

_Come visit when the baby is born, alright? We love you always._

_With our deepest sincerity,_

_The Poulains_

_P.S.: Don't forget to thank Sesshoumaru!_

It was a casual yet sentimental letter, probably written in order to express emotions they couldn't bring themselves to do during that melancholic day. I folded the letter back to its original form, into the envelope and placed it above the lacquered table.

"Thank you," I whispered. I feared that I will terribly miss the Poulains and their delightful companionship, and most of all, guilty for thinking I could take for granted the relationship they had formed with me, and so I refused to say anything more. The weight around me, the air, the atmosphere, even the curious stare Sesshoumaru is giving, felt suddenly heavy for my fragile body. It was as if my emotions were sinking into a dark chasm and my legs were being pulled, as if figuratively chained to such tragic future.

I'm sure Sesshoumaru became apathetically aware of my situation, and if he even felt the slightest sympathy, he cleverly concealed it.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" he offered. "I was about to head to one of my engagements in the commercial center of Paris, but I have quite some spare time." It was as if he only offered it to console me and not to indulge with me. He probably knew that I instantaneously felt lonely and I didn't want to feel so any longer.

I answered him with a faint nod of my head, but my mind seemed elsewhere, acutely thinking of another world and another time. Was this the true reality that I live in?

* * *

The chauffer had dropped us off in an avenue so close to Le Tour de Eiffel, so when Sesshoumaru's conspicuous form was spotted; it was rather difficult evading hordes of tourists, citizens, and pedestrians who approached us rather blatantly. Yet here were, a mere hour or more away from the confined fortress I lived in and back to the illustrious streets of Paris, so beautifully sheltered by the familiar edifices with its crammed cobble stone streets, and buzzing livelihood which enticed any foreigner so misplaced within the prismatic illusion. Countless boutiques and restaurants of exotic delicacies lined the commercial neighborhood as we paced slowly towards an indefinite destination.

One should by now, that Sesshoumaru isn't extremely fond of small talk. His interests are spoken brusquely regardless of now candid or scurrilous he may appear. Maybe this is why he didn't rouse any sort of petty discourse. Even so, a vexing pang in my heart began to smother my mind, forcing me to provoke any such dialogue.

"The Poulains told me I should visit once I have the baby," I said, though I wasn't quite sure where I was going with this. Sesshoumaru nodded briskly, feeling the same way. I caressed my clothed bump, as if to appear extremely fond of it. "What should we name it?" I asked suddenly. It was rather incongruous of me to even speak of such things, for I usually let them dwell in my mind until the appointed day.

Another one of his infamous smirks tainted his lips, as he said, "Truthfully, we barely know each other, yet for some reason I find you to be extremely transparent." Although he stopped there, it seemed to me he was willing to go on and say, _and I'm sure no one else will think so._

I believe he was accusing me for starting such a tedious conversation. Though it is indeed petty, I never found it to be as prosaic as he thinks it is. But instead of expressing such thoughts, I quickly explained myself. "Since Sesshoumaru rarely gives me a visit, I try to make each one less dull than it already is." I'm sure he was a little enlightened that I referred to him in third person, and that I practically said our rendezvous absurdly mundane.

"Well if you ask this Sesshoumaru," he responded (I'm presuming he's being humorous here), "I want to name the child, if it is to be a boy, Akira." It didn't occur to me that we could name the baby a Japanese name, I always thought it would be French due to my time here. Regardless, I was ignorant of the name's definition or its relevance. I must've appeared moronic. Either that or Sesshoumaru read my thoughts as he always does. "It's a powerful name," he elaborated, "Its definition is close to that of the word, prodigy."

_Ichinose Akira._ The name sounded… reverent. As if the child _is_ to be revered just for having such name. I'm sure that was Sesshoumaru's intention when he chose it. "It's alright," I joked. Though I had such a serious expression I'm sure Sesshoumaru found me crude for having such a low opinion. When I noticed his affronted eyes gleaming, I quickly smiled. Out of all the emotions Sesshoumaru keeps hidden, anger is the easiest to discover.

We continued walking, absorbed in the conversation we were having… well at least I was. It surprises me how much Sesshoumaru can reveal about himself. He appeared to be the sort of individual who would never wish to divulge any information centering him. Maybe he is that sort of person. But to me, tonight… he allowed me into his life for a timeless second.

However, timeless seconds, actually never last.

"It's indeed getting late," said Sesshoumaru as he peered at his golden wrist watch beneath the sleeve of his business suit. "I believe we'll have to adjourn our meeting for today."

I frowned a bit, not out of sadness or longing, but of disappointment. For a second, I saw an extrinsic Sesshoumaru who seemed like a person… who felt like a person. But he was the same monotonous businessman he was after just noticing the tick of the time and because of this, all feelings of romanticism or hope that I had fabricated soon evanesced. For all I know, he could be attending to his other mistresses or worse, his dreadful fiancée, Sayuri. "Leaving I see. I suppose you have some other business to take care of."

His eyebrows furrowed, as if thinking I was being irrational. Really I wasn't. He was merely being callous. "I don't understand where this animosity is coming from…"

"-Where are you going?" I asked, disrupting his train of thought. If he was truly leaving due to his occupation or company, then I wouldn't mind. But if he was leaving to be comforted or satiated by another woman, then I must know. Already, infidelity is becoming quite gruesome. "If it's a woman, it's alright." _There's no need to lie…you've done this sort of thing before._

He gave me a peculiar look, a look which almost said, _Are you sure you want me to tell you?_ My impertinent curiosity continued looking up at him, patiently awaiting the answer. "I promised Sayuri I will be home at a certain designated time." The truth was spouted as if he wasn't hesitant in the first place. I didn't know whether I should be happy he chose to be honest or feel that my pursuits and desires to build a relationship with him have been quickly thwarted.

"Why do you keep that woman if it's apparent she's not enough for you?" At that point, it didn't matter to me whether he thought I was being bold o ribald. For now I hated how this woman was able to trap him torturously in a leash. One might pity Sayuri but in all honesty I'm not sure whether it's Sesshoumaru or the other who's pitiable. Sayuri is seemingly oblivious but that ignorance comes with a price, and that price is definitely Sesshoumaru's freedom.

His eye brows furrowed even more, giving him an appalled expression. However, he answered me, nonetheless, not caring whether it was out of line or not. Perhaps he thought I earned the right to know. "Sayuri is a good woman. A debauch man like me needs someone he can trust."

_Can't you trust me?_ Although I didn't say it, my eyes did. The chocolate orbs diluted, bringing unshed tears upon the rims of my eyes. I didn't mean to cry (I had no such urge or emotion), but I think after hearing such a hurtful answer, your mind starts severing its ties with the heart, as if it's too emaciated to handle such emotions it dares conjures. Thus, both entities acted on their own, unwilling to further any unnecessary pain.

If Sesshoumaru was at all disturbed by such exhibition of melancholy, he didn't show it. He maintained an impassive pretense, and led me back to the car.

After such a dreary period of silence, time graciously blessed me by making things go by faster, for indeed I was soon at the manor. When the car had ceased and the door opened for my departure, Sesshoumaru briskly grabbed at my hand, causing my head to turn at him in shock. His mouth dropped as if to say something, but he quickly let go and said goodbye. I peered at him curiously as the car drove to leave… what was it that he left unsaid?

Of course that was something I discovered much later in the night.

* * *

That night I probably experienced one of the most uncharacteristic points of my life. Never have I behaved so foolishly or childishly. But never mind any of that. Even though I was extremely saddened and deep in regret that day, I was rest assured in the future. Who knew such obstacles could quickly evanesce into nothingness? All it took was one scandalous visit.

It was at the dead of the night and the moon, a chromatic orb shone brightly amongst the ebony skies. Since it was nearing winter, the stars didn't glisten as vibrantly as they used to, causing shadows to envelop the world beneath the large dome of darkness.

I lay insomniac, upon my bed with my blankets in disarray. Through the window, I could see that clouds, lined silver by the moon, began to veil its beauty, as if trying to wane the pale embers.

It was terribly dark. Terribly pitch black. All I was aware of was the loneliness which swept my body. I was too heavy to move for the sadness in me quickly sunk my heart deep beneath the nadirs of life. As a way to console myself, my mind quickly reverted back to memories of old. If I learn to forget the present, then I can learn to remember the past…

Since the day mostly revolved around Sesshoumaru, of course my thoughts revolved around Sesshoumaru. And since my mind struggled to retrieve within the ocean of thoughts inside my head, a certain memory, I picked at a very fond and unforgettable one.

Soon I visualized the beautiful Seine, and her flowing waters which glistened with the crystal sparks of the sun, and a cement bridge, though a relic of antique architecture, was effective and carried within it its prideful significance of connecting the divided Paris. And of course, there was that old building occupied by the somber tradesmen, falling into the pits of despair where his money had also been lost. In front of that man, stood a towering form, with conspicuously silky hair flowing with the breeze as it danced gently with the wind. He was so tall… and I was so little… He was so beautiful… I was so meager… And yet there I was, boldly seeking directions.

Amidst my serene recollection, a pale light suddenly burst from within the corridors, with a pool of light seeping beneath the doors of my chamber onto the wooden floorboards. Shadows of movement danced within that pool, hinting on an approaching figure. Of course I was frightened. Who could be up so late at night to dare intrude in my sanctuary?

I heard footsteps, putting pressure on the floorboards from outside my room. The weight of the person made the floors screech, as if begging him to return to where he belonged and to cease the torturous movements.

When the light which fell beneath the crack of my door became overshadowed, I knew immediately that whoever this intruder was, stood right in front of my room. I was soon aghast and sick with worry. Anyhow, he or she will enter this room momentarily, and I must think quickly! If it was a robber, then the person will only be as obnoxious as to sift through my belongings (which carry nothing of importance), and if that was so, then I must pretend to be dormant. If remained quiescent, then the robber, obviously, will see no reason to touch me.

Right then and there, the door creaked open in a rather slow manner. I didn't understand why this robber thought he'd be quiet by slowly opening the door, it only made it louder. When the door was fully open, a glare of light filled the floor beneath it and a portion of my supposedly sleeping form. As the intruder entered, the door was swiftly closed, making a rather raucous click. Again, everything was dark.

My heart began to thump nervously, pounding on my rib cage. The beating was rather loud in my mind that I was surprised the world didn't hear it!

The trespasser proceeded towards my bed, unfortunately for me. And once he was near, he sat beside my huddled form, making the mattress sink due to his added weight. I couldn't really know who this person was or what he looked like for several reasons. First of all, it was dark. Second of all, my back was facing his direction, and third of all, if I opened my eyes then my deception would be figured out.

I was so heavy with fright and anxiety that my forehead beaded with cold sweat, and my breathing became a lot heavier. Whoever this man was needs to leave! A pregnant woman won't be so well if she's given such a fright!

My face was burning, dying to know who this person was and dying to know his reason here and why he dared sit so idly beside me. Before anything else, I felt a familiar hand, with a caressing warmth placed on my shoulder as the man breathed, "Rin, it's alright. It's me."

My eyes jolted open in relief, but for some reason, I wasn't so surprise. Perhaps the shock had left once his hand gave way to his identity. "You shouldn't scare me like that," I said rather coldly. I remembered our encounter previously and I decided being frigid wouldn't hurt.

Then, Sesshoumaru did the most irrevocable, most alien, most dream-like thing to do. He turned me over so that I faced him, his golden eyes which were illuminated within the darkness, and his pale face so adorned by the moon. At that point I didn't know what to do so our gazes were just fixated on each other. Until that is, he kissed me so abruptly.

It's been months since we exchanged such lustful affections. And I'm relieved to say, it's brought the deepest euphoria a woman like could ever feel. It wasn't like the first one we shared, which was so passionate and forceful. This one was light, soft upon the lips, and carried such strong heartened emotions that I soon felt my heart burst while inside its cage of a body.

When our lips so heinously parted, I frowned, longing for more.

"I tried to tell you earlier in the car… but I wasn't so sure," he began to explain. Though this doesn't make sense since I didn't imply the slightest bit that I wanted an elaboration. So when his mouth moved to utter a single word, I gallantly reached up and kissed him more, my fingers weaving themselves amongst the silk strands which fell so elegantly down his pure face. It was that same scene with that same night.

I was quite afraid that he might leave and disappear as if he was just a meaningless whisper from a very vague dream. And indeed I thought it was a dream… that is until he laid himself on top of me, cautious of my inflated midsection, and wedged himself between my thighs.

The dream-like trance soon ended. "Sesshoumaru…" I gasped. It wasn't out of pleasure. If anything, it was out of displeasure. The reality of his very intense body and forceful libido stirred a sense of imminent agitation. Before he could go any further, I shook my head violently, and released my hold of him.

Here he was… coming out of nowhere and already forcing me to conform to his sexual desires.

"What's the matter?" he asked almost growling, though he wasn't worried. The question was more of exasperation against my intractableness (this signified to me his true intentions). The palpability of it all came to view. He didn't come here with altruistic motives. He came here to simply "do his business" as he did months before. I wasn't about to lose to the same game twice.

My face was filled with distraught as my eyes averted his. My eyes pointed to my stomach, as if saying that he should be more considerate of my health, though really the truth was that I didn't want him to think of me as a doll he could toy with whenever his genitalia encouraged him (forgive me for being so vulgar in saying so).

His eyes urged me to explain, searching vehemently for an answer.

"Sesshoumaru," I began modestly, "it's not that I don't want to. But it causes me great distress to know you didn't come here for me."

I'm sure he knew what I was talking about for he distanced himself immediately, allowing me to sit up. Just when I thought he understood my feelings and was about to leave, he cupped my cheek soothingly and kissed me once more. Back to where we started, we resumed the position we were in, lying down on top of each other oh so sinfully.

Before I could protest or anything of that sort, he would only silence my lips by kissing me or placing his hands in sensitive areas of my body, which made me squeal or moan derisorily. It was very tyrannical of him but very ingenious as well.

Then, the inevitable happened. He lifted the hem of my night gown and intruded in a way so painful I would never ask it of anyone. Not even his dreaded betrothed, Sayuri.

I won't go into detail, of course. But it's safe to say throughout the night I whimpered half in agony and half in bliss. I'm not quite sure if that's plausible, but that's what had transpired between us. I couldn't very well dissent to his actions because his vivacious movements caused the power of speech to leave me so sullen and helpless. Though once in a while, an awkward sound would erupt from my throat.

When Sesshoumaru finished, he fell immediately by my side gasping for breath, while leaving me sore and barren. Even my womb seemed to have burned with displeasure.

I don't want to leave the impression that intercourse isn't passionate or pleasurable (it is beyond level), but the staggering fact that it wasn't consensual made everything all the more dissatisfactory.

* * *

This became quite the reiterated night, for he came for this one purpose occasionally though not nightly. By then it had become consensual, and so it wasn't antagonizing at all but extremely ecstatic. However… every morning I would lethargically wake to an empty bedside, only to have my heart weeping out of desolation. Sesshoumaru made it a point to leave while my consciousness remained deep in the analeptic world of sleep.

These appointments ceased when the time came for Sesshoumaru and his associates to return to Japan to recapitulate the unfinished work they had left behind. Besides, there was absolutely no reason to stay, especially for my cause. I would've been indifferent to that. I would have patiently waited with my peace sealing my lips if I hadn't known that he brought Sayuri with him. It was rumored throughout the household staff their nuptial ceremony isn't too far in the future.

Sesshoumaru assured me the day before he left that he will make in time for the nearing end of my gestation. In other words, I am left to myself in this solemn manor throughout the winter, listening to the weeping skies as the snow descends during this frozen time. Only time can transcend the true sadness which harbors itself beneath this distasteful river of sorrow.

* * *

_Four and a half months later…_

When I complained about how corpulent I was in the past, I must be a very irritating ninny then because my appearance now is significantly larger than it was before. During the prior months, I looked like I carried a cannon ball. Now however… there lay a titanic _boulder_ ready to explode due to its ever growing size! I was a balloon close to the stages of bursting into shattered pieces!

And oh my! The child inside sure is making matters worse! No matter what time of the day, whether it be the night when I am lost in the trance of sleep or during the midday when I try to humor myself in the blessedly vibrant day of March, it makes such _atrocious_ movements that I was once half scared thinking it was ready to claw itself out of my stomach! Forget kicks or random bumps, I believe this little one tumbles every now and then, flipping its body vertically inside of me. It wasn't like it was painful. Thank heavens no. It was just audaciously unpalatable! Ludicrously enough, my bladder was being extremely capricious with its fickleness. Statistically, a healthy person only needs to attend the toilets maybe five or six times a day. However the statistics change when you're pregnant and in full bloom! Since morning sickness vanishes after the baby takes its true form, I found myself urinating or having a voracious need to relieve my bowels every, oh I don't know, half hour or so!

Oh how terrible! Oh woe is me! I hate how often my lamentations have become!

People presume that pain immediately strikes when the day of birth arrives, but really I've never experienced something so tedious and onerous in my whole life. The amusing part is, everyone predicted it to be a boy due to how large my stomach was and how it was gliding down towards my hips. Whenever I tell people of the story, they immediately laugh in the irony of it or become perplexed by the miraculous feats of it all. Oh yes, giving birth is magic.

The day Ichinose Akira was born was the very same day Sesshoumaru returned, coincidentally, although he wasn't supposed to be born until two weeks after.

Right after Sesshoumaru arrived in Paris with the "dreaded fiancée" Sayuri, he immediately left her in her solitary apartments and attended to me. Of course one would feel flattered by this, but at the time I didn't really have the opportunity to be flattered. Mostly because he wouldn't have gone right then to visit me if I wasn't experiencing labor.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was phenomenally hot for a day in March and I was bulging like a swollen grape… ripe with enceinte! There I was gruesomely perspiring as I sat next to the same old French window, observing the growing day as the sun begun to rise at its fullest amongst the sapphire skies which were bejeweled with towering clouds, sheltering those with its cool shadow against the blazing heat of the sun. Just then, Isabelle informed me of Sesshoumaru's recent arrival in Paris at that hour. He gave word that he will come to see me in two days or so.

While I sat, a grumbling sound emanated from my stomach as the child flipped and flipped itself oh so obnoxiously, causing a vexing sensation.

"You don't look so well, Miss," commented Isabelle with her idle and fretful look.

I didn't respond to this, afraid I might answer repulsively. Right now, I'm not in the best of moods. It was close to being afternoon in lunch and already I felt aches and my stomach tightening itself frequently. My breasts, which were once petite and premature, grew due to the bothersome hormones and glands which were needed to feet the infant once it was born. However they never ached like this before. Somewhere around my chest and my womb, something was stinging.

I gestured at Isabelle to help me up for I spontaneously had the urge to go to the bathroom. But at the moment she picked up my elbows and helped me rise, water flowed freely between my thighs, soaking the cushions of the seat; its odoriferous stench quickly permeated through the room… what shocked me was that I had no control over the embarrassing feat my bladder accomplished. My cheeks burned scarlet. Here I was a grown woman and I wet myself! In front of the maid too!

But Isabelle didn't laugh or console me for something so shameful. Instead her vulture eyes widened, with the gray in them expanding to a size I never knew they could. "Miss…" she said almost trembling. I tried to move her to assure her, but she stood there frozen.

I looked at her, wondering what she was so worried about. Ignoring her contemptuous reaction, I waddled rather painfully like a plump duck towards my bathroom, only to feel more liquid gushing through and through. "What's going on…?" My eyes were now on Isabelle who was actually aware of what was truly happening.

"Miss… I'll go get someone!" she said while sitting me down on the bed, her rigid arms straining from consternation. She scampered through the room and picked up the phone, dialing a number which send word to the servants' wing to fetch a doctor and all of those sorts.

My mind drifted from Isabelle's actions. It was too hard to focus on her needless trepidation. But as I sat there languidly, it felt like my insides twisted themselves into a knot, foreboding me from causing any movement and when I did, the pain would lash against my ribs and my abdomen. To my relief, it would gradually recede.

I tried to speak her name… "Isa-…" but the words all rolled into a wad of nothingness inside my throat, causing me to be voiceless aside from uttering occasional groans. My movements paused once more, saturating the copious agony swelling beneath my hips. It was then I knew what was truly happening and I understood the fright in Isabelle's eyes. I was having the baby.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry it took a while to do this. I couldn't grab the computer since my siblings foolishly enthrall themselves in this rather convenient form of technology for hours! Anyways I don't have much to say, surprisingly. Just give an honest feedback! 


	10. Bonjour, Monsieur Chagrin

**Author's Note:** So I was checking my stats today, and I looked over the reviews I had for my one shot fic, The Eternally Forgotten, and I noticed one of my readers now read that story almost 2 years ago and I thought that was sentimentally amusing. But I guess she didn't recognize me due to my frequent change of pen names (my pen name then was the one I have now but I changed it so often!) I think you know who you are, Kyuuketsuki-san. xD! And I read more reviews and I noticed that the other fanfic authors I adore reviewed that story and gave me a review that would probably be considered the best thing a fan could ever ask for. But no wait I have to correct myself. The great gift an author could give to a fan like me is inspiration to write something as successful as L'hiver de la Lune Solitaire. Thank you.

I'm sure Sesshoumaru appears as repulsively chauvinistic as he can be right now, but he has good in him. Oh yes the baby. It came so soon! Actually this story will end (well I think it will based on how well I pace this) in, uh, four or five chapters? But I do hope it goes longer than that. I actually enjoyed this experience. Anyways… on with the story. Chapter 10 is French for Nice to Meet you, Mr. Despair/Sorrow. It's not really relevant to the story (the chapter title) but I kind of liked it so there xD.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Bonjour, Monsieur Chagrin  
**

When my first son was born, my mind was exuberantly filled with emotions of contempt. For nine, arduous months, I anticipated the coming of an illegitimate infant I closely held within my heart. This whole year nothing came to me as exciting as seeing the curious eyes and melodic weeping of a newborn. Yet… why do I feel so much disdain? Why do I feel as if tragedy will once again anchor my feet to the pits of despair… burying all my aspirations beneath lapidarian gems, which outshine the waning luminosity of my once incandescent dreams.

Has the end of my fallacious life come to an end? Will the child carry with him the pernicious evidence of my iniquity? Thoughts of ignominy immersed my laboring agony into a palliative numbness. While my body screamed every agonizing breath of air out of my malcontented lungs, my mind was in such a disquiet state, filled with the raging flames of paranoia.

* * *

My body seemed to have been possessed, for it moves on its own, the force of movements deriving from natural instinct. Though I was merely seventeen years old, my body and the thaumaturgy of birth have been an ancient experiment, conducted since the world's infantile days. Even though this sort of pain was obscure to my tormented soul, my body was indeed fine. 

A glaring beam of light enthralled my eyes, with nebulous silhouettes hovering over my head, my temples crowned with cold sweat. Those amorphous silhouettes uttered words which were incoherent to me, for the pain was drowning in my ears, congesting it with torturous screams. It took me a while to realize, those tortuous screams, were indeed mine.

"When will it end?!" I wailed. My eyes welled with tears, slithering down my cheeks. I felt Isabelle's gaunt hands suddenly grip my arms rigorously. After a few rapid moments of recovering from that instantaneous pain, my spinal cord and ribs lurched with extreme throbbing, jolting my stomach into a sensual feeling of ataxia. My face winced, unable to tolerate any such torment.

A silver-haired doctor, whose skin was leathery and sagging, gave me an observant look as he nudged my knees apart. "Your contractions are culminating, I'm sure you'll be giving birth very soon." Although he was studying the area between my ties at a close range, I felt no need for modesty or indignity. As of now, I was completely anesthetized from my whirlwind of emotions for they were vigorously dominated by misery and pain.

This was of no assistance to my aches. I lay my head against the soft cushions of my silk pillows, my chest heaving violently as I gasped for breath. My throat felt raw and dehydrated, and the once soothingly cool droplets of sweat were now smoldering my emaciated skin. And my once silky and tamed hair was now in complete dishevelment, with obstinate strands soaked with either tears or sweat as it cohered with my drenched cheeks. "Water…" I whispered.

A maid on the other side of the bed retrieved a glass of water, which I… not drank… but ravenously devoured in a single second. I continued to pant nervously, each breath being exhaled faster as each moment passed, preparing myself for the upcoming wave of familiar anguish.

My eyes shut immediately, pinching in the tears which seeped through so languidly as my fingers ferociously clutched at the bed sheets, almost tearing the stained cloth. My lips widened as far as they could to let out a screech which echoed endlessly throughout the solemn corridors of the mansion, haunting the desolate magnificence of its affluent walls. Inside of me, I could feel the baby barbarically perturbing my organs, shoving its way to a leisurely and time-consuming exit.

My head turned towards Isabelle as my hands brought a convulse grip over hers, "Sesshoumaru…" I respired. An alabaster darkness swept my eyes as I hazily pictured his gentle and expressionless face. "Don't leave …" I cried choking in tears.

Isabelle gave me a disorientated look, as if unsure whether to answer me or to let me be in my delirious hallucination.

"Rin," the irksome voice of the elderly doctor called out, "Before you give birth to your baby, I need you to empty yourself alright?"

_Empty myself? What heresy does this lecher speak of?!_

Before I could protest or any of that sort, a basin was placed between my parted legs. Embarrassingly enough, my bowels loosened themselves, releasing excrements without question. I smiled witlessly, realizing how burlesque and bizarre this is. I must've appeared mentally deranged to Isabelle, for she stared at me horrified with her lips trembling so innocently. Nevertheless, she still held on to me, as a way to provide solace.

An hour passed, filled with the usual contractions which hammered my petite body with pain as one of the maids brought me water, the doctor instructed me to relax and breathe (which I yelled at him for since he has absolutely no idea how miserable I am), and Isabelle just dully held onto me with that frightened look about her. Occasionally, a drenched towel steaming with heat would be placed against my already scorching forehead, but it did help for it brought a sensational comfort to the aches I've been experiencing.

When I thought the worse was over, Mother Nature quickly clouted my cheeks, reprimanding me for ignoring reality. Reality was heinously abhorrent, especially when my eyes bulged, startled by the dry blood which spewed from my opening. At the same time, I could feel my innards being hammered repetitiously; causing me to groan in pain (I could no longer scream for by then my voice faded).

"Kill me…" I begged while sobbing hysterically. "Kill me please!" The maids huddled around my pathetic form by now were negatively astounded, for I'm sure this suicidal behavior swept them with calamitous fright. (This sort of behavior, I learned in many years after having my younger children, was typical for women in labor)

"Continue speaking in such pessimistic manner and I will," said a banausic voice, which was tenderly familiar to my lacerated ears. Never have my rubicund eyes rejoiced so jubilantly out of this sanguine moment. I was in such a state of reverie… for there he was standing gallantly before me.

Isabelle stood aside as Sesshoumaru knelt by my side and took my vacillating hand. At his appeasing touch, I felt my body, which was previously sinking to the bottomless ocean, so murky and dark into the bright surface, so golden from his sun, bathed with salvation and elation. For a moment, an everlasting peace permeated throughout my throbbing heart, sedating the atrocity which shattered my heaven into a peaceful slumber, eternally forgotten in the celestial sanctuary of a euphoric beatitude.

"Anata…" I whimpered, almost croaking for my voice was sordid. The word which ascended my elated lips was alien to me. Whatever it meant I was unaware of it, but it brought a nostalgic pang to my heart. "I'm so glad…" I was about to say more, but my tongue froze, unable to conjure words of relief and gratitude. However I mouthed them anyways… muttering such idolatrous words, _"I love you."_ It didn't matter to me if I was inarticulate or seemingly aberrant… as long as he took my words to heart then I can give birth regardless of pain or sorrow.

Afterwards, Sesshoumaru gazed at me fondly, his golden eyes shimmering with delight and amorous emotions. Even though his luscious lips or angelically chiseled face was frozen as it always has been, his eyes seemed so out of place… so charismatically ambiguous within a beauty so barren of emotion. He nodded his head, prompting me to cry even more.

It seemed as if the whole world intermitted, only to stop and watch our enamored exchange. It especially seemed so… for right after I sank to tears, a convolution of pain, agony, sorrow, and suffering gravitated towards my pelvis, producing a scream so timorous it petrified all the personnel in the room, even Sesshoumaru let his guard down only to reveal his eyes slightly widening. He must've felt a significant fraction of my pain for his hands quivered as my finger nails dug inside the palm of his hands, piercing the soft and delicate skin. Yet… even so… he did not wince or even display the slightest emotion of suffering for he remained fixated at me, who collapsed right onto the bed, writhing in futility of the pain. I was thankful to him for being extremely complaisant.

Compared to the current predicament I am in, the agony I suffered earlier were mere slaps or pinches. Previously, I believe I said I felt like I was being hammered repetitively. Well now, in the area of my pelvis, my body thrashed for I felt as if I was being _axed_ and that my stomach was being slaughtered inexorably. My neck arched as I held my body in place at the bed, preparing for the brutal and exceedingly gruesome labor.

"Alright, it looks like you're ready," said the doctor. The maids around him all rushed, carrying towels and placing it beneath my bottom. Within my treacherous body, I felt my spine within the stages of breaking, for it felt as if something was slowly sawing it into half. I inhaled deeply when a masticating pain tightened my abdomen. Something was surging through my bowels and I wanted it out of me.

I grimaced as my face pinched, huffing in air as I felt the need to _push_. Something in my womb was caving in, causing me to croak from vexation. I was tempted to scream. _Very_ tempted. But I'm afraid my voice lost all will to exclaim in agony. The doctor who was positioned in front of me, must've noticed my expression for he said himself, "It looks like you're ready." He peered at the two maids beside him, "Quick, place some pillows behind her so she sits up."

Sesshoumaru helped with this and sat beside me, to help as a support for my upper torso. "Are you ready, Rin?" the doctor asked. I nodded my head tempestuously. At this answer, the doctor began to chat numbers, counting to three, and at three, he cued me to push. And when I did… oh my… it felt as if I was trying to push an anvil out of my opening!

As he counted loudly and… enthusiastically… I took the opportunity to gasp for breath and then exert all force within my womb to push the child out. Each number ensued a desperate puff of oxygen to be exhaled from the rims of my mouth and the flares of my nostrils. During the fleeting seconds of when I pushed, I felt a sadistic sense of relief… as if happy that all this pain means it's nearly over. Beside me, Sesshoumaru let me partially lean on him and at the same time placing a death grip on his arms as I pushed oh so vehemently. Everything was so fervid… everything was so perplexing.

"I don't see a head yet!" yelled the doctor as he placed his hands between my thighs, in a way as if he was going to catch something. With his exclamation, I used triple the force and energy I poured into my body.

"Ready… PUSH!" We repeated this for what seemed like an eternity. Three seconds of ultimate pain gravitated where my folds were and then a slight ecstasy would rupture my soul right when I did the "push". Each minute conjured an excruciating pain which I will never forget… oh the miracle of life! I'm surprised the women don't die in the process…

Each time a push failed, my head would collapse on Sesshoumaru's shoulder, and I would gaze upon his mesmerizing eyes of gold and each time this happened he would stare at me soothingly, mouthing words like, "_You're fine"_ or "_Push_…" but his voice didn't reach my ears, for they were already occupied with my agonizing screams.

"I can see the head!" the doctor yelled gleefully. I smiled throughout my pain as I heard this. _My journey… is almost over…_

Each and everyone of them encouraged me to push, enacting deep breaths and wincing faces. If I wasn't in such thorough pain, I would've laughed at the hilarity! But such amusing thoughts would only evanesce at the coming whiplash of agony.

Something was emerging between my thighs, and the weight and cumbersome shape of it, smacked my mind senseless. I was in a daze of anticipation and misery, swirling within scornful wretchedness. "Please let it be over…" I pleaded at the gods above me, relentlessly watching me suffer this sick joke of nature. It felt as if I would separate into two! No not separate…mutilating into pieces! Now I know what paper must feel when it is torn into half.

The next few seconds brought with them blessed gives of… oh well… _flaming torture!_ Not only did I feel like being lacerated but I also felt as if someone's cruelly baking me on top of a fire place! My midsection burned with agony as I pushed and pushed only to realize failure.

But within me… the gentle kicks and movements which swam inside my body unexpectedly brought the comforting moments of the child's departure. It was as if the baby and I came into an armistice in this bloody war of birth. There must've been blood, for I could smell the metallic repugnance which hovered obnoxiously above us.

I peered at the doctor, who is now wearing a ridiculous grin over his lips. For there it was… It was that moment… the climax of it all! Tears once again welled into my eyes as I felt a cumbersome being slide from my body, which was indeed painful… but the knowledge and realization that the cumbersome being was my baby… immediately eradicated all doubts, anger, pain, despair, and desolation within me.

For a miniscule second, my ears were to deaf to my vicinity and the feeling of my heavy reality being lifted from my shoulders. All the lights around me faded into an alabaster darkness, smiling at the peace brought upon me. Oh how serene, oh how lovely… An eternally sanguine moment was forever frozen in my heart and in my soul, and once all of the world returned to me and my senses resumed, the first thing my fragile ears heard was the melodramatic voice of an angel crying… wailing… and only for one thing.

It's mother.

_His_ mother.

All my surroundings once again faded and the only thing my eyes could visualize was a tiny infant, sobbing mercilessly at the world for his mother's gentle arms. I was unaware of who passed the child to me, but as soon as his chord was severed and wrapped in a cloth so soothingly white, the baby drifted into my welcoming arms.

My garnet lips curled into a complacent smile as a crystal droplet descended from the rims of my eyes. "Hello, little one." I lay gently down on my bed, absorbed in this tranquil moment as I let the crying child near my lips and pecked him softly in the forehead.

The first few glimpses of my child were rather dubious for tears inconveniently blurred my vision. But it didn't take awhile for the image to resume to a halcyon state, revealing a beautiful baby boy. I disregarded his physical attributes, forgetting that discord and bane _may_ consequently follow.

I turned my head to look at Sesshoumaru, who sat so affectionately close beside me, wearing a never-before seen smile erupt from his deadpan expression. Such eccentricity emanated with pure joy, causing exhilaration to sweep away all of my apprehension, only to bring a moment of exulting serenity. There he was… smiling at our child.

Akira ceased his weeping as I caressed his tiny head against my cheeks, which were sore and soaked with tears and languorous sweat, feeling the smooth and permeating warmth within the baby. My heart ceased beating at the touch as a harmonious sound escaped Akira's ruby lips.

"Oh my, so handsome…" I jokingly commented. One might say so, but he unexpectedly looked like me (which was indeed very bizarre for everyone expected him to take after Sesshoumaru). His hair was black, a raven color so darkly contrasting against the pale light bestowed upon him. His skin was the same color as ivory, just as mine, copiously fair yet rosy and pink. If one were to look at him, one would never declare him to be a son of Sesshoumaru's… well that is if one didn't look at his bewitching eyes.

Within the oceanic white of his eyes floated conspicuous and beautifully enigmatic golden orbs, so reminiscent of Sesshoumaru's. The gaze held the same familiar allure which captivated me to his father in the years before. It was no mistake… this was Sesshoumaru's son.

* * *

When I first saw my son, I initially thought of Naraku that is until I saw his eyes and their golden gleam. One might pity Akira, though, for in the later future his younger siblings were the exact replicas of Sesshoumaru, silver-haired, masculine, and exotically exquisite. What an equivocal scene it was… one son taking after me, two younger sons and two younger daughters chiseled the way Sesshoumaru was. They were all so illustrious and foreign to him. 

It wasn't to say that Akira was resented. It was quite the contrary. Despite the fact that in the later years, Akira bore a physical resemblance to me, he acted much like his father. When one sees Sesshoumaru walking, one immediately imagines a magnanimous and dauntless king, taking his place upon a seat of gold and garnet. Akira humorously took after his father's brisk way of pacing down and up the corridors and even the way he furrowed and cocked his eyebrows! Maybe one habit derived from me was hereditarily given to him, and that was the subconscious pout I form when I am disappointed or saddened. Aside from him being the first born, Sesshoumaru took a peculiar fondness over Akira and made it a point to see him daily. But of course, such demeritorious ambiance could only be discovered and exploited by the rapacious secrets Sesshoumaru oh so cleverly concealed.

* * *

We were left to ourselves, me, Sesshoumaru, and Akira inside my sober chambers, which was now growing dim due to the setting sun, garnished decoratively with silver clouds. I wasn't aware of how much time passed during my birth, but the doctor said it's usual for such things to transpire for so long. 

My body stayed there, embraced by the waves of bedspreads and as I sat against mountains of pillows and bolsters with Sesshoumaru lovingly placed beside me as he watched while I nursed our son for the first time. Little Akira's eyes fluttered to a close as his inflated cheeks continued to suckle upon my breast for the milk he desired so. I found this terribly amusing, so I had a grin worn over my emaciated face for quite a time.

"Is he asleep?" Sesshoumaru asked, disrupting my moment of peace. I looked over to his side and leaned my cheek against his broad shoulders, savoring the moment of our closeness. It's as if my dreams had burst from my imaginary fantasy and orchestrated for all this to occur.

"He is…" I vigilantly removed him from my bosoms and placed his abeyant form near my lap and against my now empty belly. It felt peculiar to lose elephantine appearance of being enceinte to be only left with a bulk of lard accumulated at the base of my belly.

All of a sudden, the most wonderful thing happened… Sesshoumaru wrapped his arms around me, positioning my torso to lie against his extensive and muscular chest. It was such a sensational moment, feeling the warmth of his breath fall upon the crook of my slender neck and the heaving movements of his chest. My face flushed of impeccability. I haven't succumbed to his touch for more than four months that his amatory gestures were heteroclite. My heart throbbed wildly as it did the night of our first kiss and I must say, this encounter is very reminiscent of the first.

"From here on, this Sesshoumaru will never think so lowly of women," he said. I found it a bit comical, although he was apparently serious.

I giggled gaily and teased him, "What? Did you assume that babies simply plop out of their mother's stomach? How do you suppose _you_ came out?"

Sesshoumaru appeared to have liked my playful acrimony, since he smiled once more, for the second time. "What a delightful expression of sarcasm, how unlikely of you," he retorted next to my ear, the whisper rousing flirtatious enticement.

Oh how torturous. I wanted to kiss him right there and strip ourselves of our clothing and make love! Perhaps even have another child! But I knew I had to rid myself of such concupiscent urges, so I immediately rose from my bed side, and waddled (I still felt slight pain between my thighs as I walked) hurriedly towards the new cradle sitting next to the French window, which Sesshoumaru purchased from Japan as a present (he had to convince Sayuri that this was nothing more than a friendly gift of course). The lacquered cradle, which was carved with outstanding finesse, was cushioned and adorned with fine Japanese silk, pure silver which gleamed with ampleness. My hands prudently placed my child amongst the comfort of his beautiful cradle, standing there, gazing at his sleeping face… his curved and dark lashes embellishing his closed lids, and the dark tresses which fell upon his forehead were too ambrosial to part from!

I reluctantly turned from my baby, and faced Sesshoumaru, who was so bedazzled at the sight of us as he sat so drowsily upon the bed. I looked back at him, unsure whether I should return to my place by his side or simply continue carrying his amorous gaze. "You've changed," he said.

I looked at him with a peculiar frown, "How so?" What a strange and ruinous conversation he has brought up. Personally, I never found changes within me… not physically at least.

Sesshoumaru placed himself at the edge of the bed and closer to me, where he urged for me to come closer with that seductive stare of his. I did so like an acquiescent concubine, trapped within his subtle desires. It was then that I acknowledged how tall he was, for even though he was sitting and I was standing, he sentimentally placed his head beneath my chest and placed his arms around my waist, pulling me into his pool of seduction and lust.

"Not now…" I protested silently. I was conscious of the sleeping child and didn't want to disturb its sleep by yielding to carnal pleasures.

Nevertheless, Sesshoumaru's hand meandered towards my shoulders, gravitating me towards his lap and in doing so he placed a lascivious kiss on my lips. "All I want is a kiss," he said.

Surprisingly enough, that was all that we did.

But of course, there were those prurient hands of his which wandered so "carelessly" towards the world of libido, but nonetheless I was pleased that he actually considered my feelings and the exhaustion of my body for that day.

* * *

I woke to the wailing cry of my child, my mind immediately alert and revived... However my body wasn't so rejuvenated, thus I was rather slow at attending to him. Sesshoumaru too woke, a bit startled, as he sluggishly rose next to my body… this I found puzzling for it's quite a first for me to wake by his side. Before I could even pick up the poor child, a heavy knock pounded on our door. I disregarded this and continued to silencing Akira, by once again nursing his insatiable stomach. 

"Who is it?" Sesshoumaru gruffly asked. His clothing was heavily creased from our prior "activities", but his long hair miraculously remained to be the relic of divinity it was, for it shone so brightly amidst the night, with the humble crescent moon bejeweling it with its light.

"It's Isabelle, sir," her familiar voice echoed in this rather dark night. "There's someone here who wishes to see Miss Rin and the baby."

Sesshoumaru querulously responded, "She's too tired…"

"-But sir!"

I froze at the sound of her alertness. Who could the guest be that she dared defy Sesshoumaru?

"Pardon me, Monsieur, but Madame Sayuri is here, accompanied by Monsieur Naraku," her voice quaked with apprehension.

But her anxiety was nothing compared to the welling shock which struck me and Sesshoumaru. Visit me? Could it be that she suspected Sesshoumaru's reason for overstaying? What happened to her oblivious façade?! And to bring Naraku of all people?!

I stood motionless behind the desolate window whereas Sesshoumaru remained sitting on the bed, for the first time ever, unsure of what to do.

* * *

**Author's Note:** le gasp. How was it? I have to say this was my favorite chapter (I finished it in less than 24 hours) and writing the birthing scene was tremendously enjoyable. I'm not quire sure of the accuracy since I never really gave birth before, but I simply imitated movies and books. I assure you how hard it was to write it too. I mean, Sesshoumaru was OOC here BEYOND level. I kind of hate myself for that, but I can't have him expressionless at the birth of his first child! Of course he has feelings too! He's a human being in this fic after all xD. 

By the way, the word Rin said when she saw Sesshoumaru, "Anata" stands for "you" or "darling" in Japanese. This hints to the senselessness labor can lead to, and the reason why I had her say this is to imply the desire for a mother Rin felt, and when she was a child, her mother often said this word.

I noticed that some of the words in spell check aren't considered words, such as thaumaturgy or etc but in dictionary(dot)com they're actually real words... So I'm quite confused!

Wow listen to me rant. Oh well we have like five or four more chapters to go… if anything we might have 16 or 17 chapters, I'm not really sure. But I intended for this story to be short in the first place, so bleh.


	11. One Enchanted Evening

**Chapter 11: Un Soir Enchanté**

_One of the most archaic and difficult, and even clichéd questions one could ask is my favorite: "What is love?" Through my years, I've discovered that the unanswerable could provide for you an inquisitive journey which could fathom even the darkest and deepest epiphanies lying hidden within the subconscious. How could one love someone when one doesn't even know what it is? Unconditional forms of affection, fidelity, contentment… They were all absent between my husband and I, and yet most would provide them as requisites for love. I don't believe it was possible for Sesshoumaru to have loved me then. Of course, I was naïve and pretended he did, or even hoped for it. Thus, I began cruelly aspiring to vanquish all those who envied my position. But did I love Sesshoumaru? If I did, then what drove me to love such a philandering and avaricious man whose good qualities went as far as intelligence and sexual appeal? Was it the chase? The money? The materialistic devotion and concept of belonging to another? Or was it my innate attachment to the man who awed me and presented to me a world of good back when I was young and forlorn? I know now that I did not love him, but I eventually learned. Back then was a manifestation of passion and inconceivable lust fueled by my insatiable desire for romance._

_But who was I? Who was I to interfere in a relationship which was already formed between two intimate people? Who was I to macadamize my own path to love and happiness when they already began to build theirs?_

_I never liked Sayuri, but I did not dislike her either. To me she was a sultry pawn made to satisfy the other side of Sesshoumaru, the side I have yet to know. While I was given his more libidinous side to pleasure, she was given his humanity and heart. And that's when I came to realize, that very night, that having the heart is not so enviable for it is fickle and inclined to change. A woman such as Sayuri, who was impatient to begin a domesticated life with the man she loved, could never have handled the capricious whims of a man whose ambitions go farther than the world could ever let it._

* * *

"Can I see him?"

I can see Sayuri giving her fiancée a deplorable yet pleading look, her eyes shaken with tears. She was standing there, directly in front of his stalwart figure amidst the morose ambiance of the drawing room. I remained in the adjacent room concealed by closed doors, yet listening and peeking. Naraku sat apathetically on the chair next to me, but he seemed to be in a deep malicious reverie and wholly uninterested with the drama transpiring between Sesshoumaru and Sayuri.

"You can't, Sayuri," replied Sesshoumaru diffidently. He was reticent the whole time she was lamenting her plight while sadistically delaying the inevitable. It was clear that Sayuri's instinct tells her that I gave birth to Sesshoumaru's child. Although she wants to buy his mendacious stories, she was reluctant and hopeful for him to tell her the antithetical situation. "The child is sleeping and it was a rather difficult labor. We're all tired and must go back home," he said calmly.

At this point I could see Sayuri burying her face onto his chest while attempting to stifle imminent tears and choking sobs. I shamefully withdrew from my spot and turned my head to Naraku, giving him a supercilious look. "What did you tell her?" I whispered acrimoniously. He chuckled at my interrogation and brushed it aside only to give an amused sigh.

"Aside from the fact that I don't have to answer to you," he began, "I also can't comprehend why you are throwing accusations at me." He shook his head in callous amusement while rising from his chair to approach my huddled figure. From beside me, he decided to take one transient glimpse at the couple. "Afterall, this is all none of my business."

I stood up indignantly and marched across the room to distance myself from him. "How else would she know?!" I hissed. I did not want to disturb them in the other room so I tried my best to minimize the raucous.

"I believe," he responded while continuing to gaze into the other room, "The mademoiselle has known for quite some time my dear mistress. She only chose to ignore it and pretended not to acknowledge the situation. I mean… How _can_ anyone believe that inane story of Sesshoumaru being philanthropic to the Poulains." Upon the end of his alimony, Naraku retreated to his chair and comfortably resumed the role of recluse, ignoring my ambient resentment. "The mademoiselle is simply perturbed that Sesshoumaru chose you over her for this single day."

I was slightly appalled by what he was saying, and yet I felt this ephemeral sensation of victory, as if I had won a war against Sayuri and my prize included her fiancée. However, this daydream was shortlived for I quickly resumed to the questioning of our imperative predicament. "Then why in the world would she bring _you_?"

"Simply because she insisted that I would have some influence in changing the ways of her wayward husband, who is meandering into other women's beds thus conceiving bastard children." His answer was terse and yet I sensed a slight malignity into his words. The ever-devious and enigmatic man continued to escape me in terms of his intentions and beguiling countenance.

I hoped to god I was his only concubine, for Naraku's answer sounded like an allegorical hint to the debauchery committed by Sesshoumaru almost daily. "So why are you sitting in this room now? Shouldn't you be convincing him?"

At that point, Naraku became exasperated of my incessant questioning. "Frankly, my dear, I may be subjugated under Sayuri in times of her fiancee's absence, but in his presence I follow his orders and I know him well enough. I saw that look and I made my way here." I could empathize to his situation. Sesshoumaru was domineering and very intimidating. Even if one knows that he is incapable of threatening someone so close to him, it was still quite difficult challenging his arbitration.

For a moment, I felt an onerous silence protrude in the room and I stood there, trying to listen to the muffled voices of Sesshoumaru and Sayuri, who was still lachrymose about her fallible position in Sesshoumaru's life. I waited in there with the inauspicious weight of anticipation and fear crawling on top of my shoulders. What would become of me now? And my child? Now that Sayuri had accepted and acknowledged her dilemma, she may use what remaining influence she has to evict my new family from our home and even in Sesshoumaru's life. The anxiety began to rancorously gnaw at my insanity. Now, it was flagrant to Naraku that I was perturbed and depended upon the severing of the silence.

"I know it seems," he alluded, "that _she_ is the other woman at times. But you must me remember, Sayuri has dealt with this before. Her fiancée had a ridiculous amount of concubines before, and she dealt with all of them the exact same way once they began to become impertinent."

His foreboding dismayed me even further. I was about to question his insolent behavior but we were interrupted by the sudden bursting of the door. There stood Sesshoumaru with an ominous glint in his eyes. He phlegmatically walked across the room and exited the other way, stomping off without need of verbal inquisition. Following him is the quaint Sayuri, her pristine face awry with despair and bitterness. She stood by the door and looked at me with an unnerving indifference. "I wish to speak with you."

The brevity of her sentence worsened the intensity of my anxiety. What could she want? It seemed as if Judgment Day was upon me and Sayuri played the role of Judge in my unholy indictment. I obsequiously followed her to the drawing room while Naraku proceeded to leave and follow his friend and master. Sayuri took the liberty of shutting the door behind us and beckoned me to take my seat on the satin couch while she remained standing indomitably in front of me. The vulnerable woman pleading to Sesshoumaru moments before evanesced into a woman of authority and rancor. She eyed me closely as she began to speak. "Let me make one thing clear," turning around with her back facing me, she gazed out into the window so idyllically bejeweled with a starry night sky, the antithesis of the looming yet latent anger present in the room. "You can do as you please, believe me you can. You can steal nights with my fiancée away from me. You can give him many bastard children. But for all I care, there's only one thing that stands."

"And what is that?" I indignantly replied. I did not mean to be so petulant. I was merely questioning this rather random and uncharacteristic authority she is attempting to place over me.

She furrowed a resolute brow at my indecorous behavior. After all, I was staying upon _her_ generosity. "Sesshoumaru… his body, his lust, his passion. It can all be yours. You can play his sluttish muse for all you like. But the one thing that will haunt you the most. The one thing that you will always yearn for but find it absent… it belongs to me. _His heart_ belongs to me and only me."

I rose vehemently, incensed by her insult. "What did you call me?!"

"You can rise up against me as boorishly and as insolently as you want. You can offend me with your lascivious lifestyle and whorish intent… parasitically staying in here with the pretense of bearing his child. My dear little girl, I know one thing that can make you fall so hard… the one little secret you like to hide from him, but I know of it. And what's more is that he'll _never_ love you. I've known that man all my life and that is time that you will never take away."

I heaved at her repeated insults and condescension, but I tamed myself and stifled all of the supercilious remarks I could yell at her abhorrent face. I quietly remained, tacitly spiting her in my mind. Having said all, she made her way to leave, following after Sesshoumaru and Naraku. Midway, she paused for an instant and muttered under her breath. "There were many before you. And without fail, they _disappeared_."

* * *

Akira's disposition seemed tenuous as he lay cradled in my arms, crying irritably. I tried my best to console his irrational needs, but neither food nor lullabies could palliate his infantile woes. The day and evening were equitably wearisome, with Sayuri's harangue exacerbating my moods and willpower.

"What a demanding child," complained Sesshoumaru who was trying to sleep on the bed next to me. For the night, his fiancée refused to have him sleep at their main abode, and though I would usually find this an opportune moment to rekindle our intimacy, her past visit left a rather morose and exasperated comportment upon us. Whatever method she's using, it is definitely working.

"Just like his father," I teased, but it failed. His moods remained to be in its nadir as he lay there reticently. I retreated to my own thoughts as the day left me languorous and emaciated. After a while, I withdrew to my own thoughts and reveries. It certainly felt more placid than the tumultuous occurrences of reality.

"That's funny," he alluded after some time. "My mother always said I was an angel as a child, submissive and silent." I chuckled at his nostalgia, but he seemed so distant… At this point his expression lay somewhere in his abstruse thoughts and memories.

"That's a little adorable. I can imagine it exactly," I muttered. I formed a sad smile at my child as he began to fall asleep, his incipient unruliness now evanescing into a peaceful slumber. I turned my head to face Sesshoumaru, whose eyebrow furrowed, dissenting to my own imaginations.

"And what about you? You appear quiet and submissive, but judging on your recent actions and forwardness I'm sure you fooled your parents as a child."

I gave him a questioning look. "Now what exactly do you mean?"

He grinned mischievously, a very rare and delightful moment, but my sentimentality could not reach me as I was vaguely annoyed by his subtleties. "Well," he began, "I heard from Sayuri about your impertinent behavior. Oh what a rebel I have for a lover."

"I am not! She need not be so condescending. She became quite impertinent herself. And what's this talk of me fooling my parents? I never fooled anyone."

He rose and gave me an amused look. "I'm sure your parents told you incessantly of what problem child you were."

I blushed at the mention and faced away from him, a little embarrassed by one fact Sesshoumaru carefully missed during his loquacious teasing. "I don't believe my mother could have. Both her and my father died when I was very little." I bowed my head in respect. It seemed an odd thing to do, but I always felt it inauspicious to talk about the dead so casually, especially such a delicate matter.

Sesshoumaru resumed his distant demeanor and began to lay back down. I could tell he was ashamed at the honest mistake he made, for he usually never made them. And he, of all people in the mansion, should know of my familial background. "That child is very lucky to have both parents. My mother died when I was a boy."

I was surprised at how colloquial Sesshoumaru was, especially at what he was easily divulging to me. I simply remained silent on the matter for I liked how casual he was being. It was a sign of some form of emotional attachment I scarcely experience with my paramour.

"It's odd," he began. I started to put Akira back into his cradle to sleep for I too was tired and wished to lay in bed with Sesshoumaru. "I remember you quite distinctly when you were a little girl."

I flushed at the mention. We never spoke of the past as we were now. It seemed such an awkward and disconcerting thing to do. I lay disquieted beside him, but I continued to listen. Tonight, could be the night for me.

"You're quite different from how you were then. Innocent and amicable is how I always thought of it." I tried to picture the years before, but the images were abstruse and inscrutable. What was lucid then is now irrelevant and it was disquieting to know how easily forgotten they were.

"What am I now?" I didn't know the point of questioning something I could fear in the future, but it spontaneously erupted from my mouth as if an unspoken oddity waiting to release itself. For a period of time, all I received was silence. In the darkness, I decided to look over and inquire for my answer, but all I found was a man fast asleep next to me. He was tired and he wished to rejuvenate what he could, for the coming day would bring much change and tumult, which I'm sure of. I decided to leave him be and to lay there to sleep as well. What tomorrow could bring remained a mystery, but the present… it was here. What time bestows upon me in this transient and idyllic moment is something I would like to call a gift, for that is what the present is.

* * *

**A/N:** Hey. I'm sorry for the 2 year hiatus. I went through quite an ordeal after a while. I am now 17 years old and changed, but I must say the adolescent years are the most difficult I ever had to face. A lot has happened and I learned a lot of things, but there is exponentially more I need to work on and learn. I hope my writing has improved and I beg forgiveness to my faithful readers who waited for this day to come. I will try to update as much as possible.


	12. To See A World in a Grain of Sand

**Chapter 12: Voir le Monde dans un Grain de Sable**

_Have you ever witnessed eternity fly by? Fleetingly let it pass only to capture an instantaneous glance… Have you ever held the sun in its morning? To bask in its light… with drops of gold raining for the earth who yearns it. Have you ever slept through a nightmare only to wake in a sanguine dream? In there, was a story of you running eternally through the Elysian Fields. Very rarely in the time of world did anyone ever hear the sounds I sing nor seen the visions I dream. For a transient eternity I flew through cerulean skies, with halcyon days passing by. But in the end I fell, ever so hard, due to my beguiling spell. A spell of illusion conjured by my own thoughts, traitorous pride telling me that there is much to be fought. Under the sun did I stand in my own sunshine, only to realize that I had lived amongst my shadows. Forget-me-nots and hyacinths were planted on my grave, only to have them wilt on that honorary day. It was that day when I soared, escalating to heights never reached. And then I fell, like Icarus in his foolish dream._

_Why am I so desperate? So forlorn and pathetic? The seasons change with me as I change with the seasons. Spring came and i was jubilant and lachrymose. They saw me bitter as snow while i laughed with day. Summer came and I was as exuberant as ever. But the spirit within me waned away. Now I am an empty shell, reliant on constant social and emotional pivots to stimulate my indolent mind. The disposition I'm in has made the antithesis of what I was trying to fight. Why is it that it's so easy to fall, fall so hard down the bottomless depths? Yet so hard to climb, stellar walls whose zenith reaches that of the basking sun? I wish you would return and change me to my senses. What has undergone in my passing by? What has these catabolic changes brought upon my world so divine? Beseeching the deaf with deafening pleas, I wait the day when I am finally at peace._

* * *

I awoke to a derelict bedside and a sleeping baby. My mind was stultified by a grueling night, its senses exacerbated by anxiety and acrimonious forebodings. I tried my best to retain the fading lucidity, but the morning felt groggy and unwanted. It was as if my languorous body refused to acknowledge that night has come and gone, playing deaf to the lark's gentle song. Obstinate and emaciated, I lay still in the comfort of my cumbersome sheets and pillows while my eyes peeked at the window to find cerulean skies with a bare wisp of clouds accompanied by an ostentatiously radiant sun. It must've been close to afternoon and I was still in bed. Somehow I remained entitled and indifferent. I gave _birth_ yesterday. Surely a woman such as I requires days of rest, especially since I already started standing and walking the night right after. Oh what a dreadful decision! Now I can feel my torn muscles and aching womb and there is absolutely nothing in the vicinity which can alleviate the pain.

Moments passed and I could hear the insipid moan of my child warning me of an incipient burst of rage. As soon as the slight moan turned into a screeching howl, footsteps thundered in the corridor outside my room and the doors flew open. "Good morning mademoiselle," Isabelle uttered hurriedly as she dashed to the cradle, picking up the child. She tried hushing and consoling the plaintive infant, but when she could no longer, she turned to me and asked, "Shall I bring him to the nurse?"

I gaped at her stupidly. "I have a nurse?"

She nodded in response, but froze to her spot, waiting for me to arbitrate her next movement. "I'd rather nurse him myself Isabelle." The maid nodded curtly and gently handed Akira to me. She bowed out of respect and proceeded to leave, shutting the doors behind her.

A nurse? Sesshoumaru must've sent for her. I did see the imperative need for one seeing as how I had a lot of milk to spare thanks to the many consequences and effects of pregnancy. Oh whatever, knowing him, he's just trying to be meticulously cautious. It must be an overbearing attribute to have the onus of making sure every preparation is made. Sometimes that perfect man _can_ be pitiable.

Minutes later, the child began to fall asleep again, shutting its sensitive eyes from the bright lights. At that point, I had nothing else to do but to lie indolently and wait for time to bemuse me. Time passed very wearily. It was as if energy was sequestered away, postponing all vivacity in what could be an exuberant spring day. The clouds shifted leisurely, waiting for every grain of the sand to slowly drip into the past as they swirl into the aurous depths of the sun. Winds gently passed by, like dulcet breezes serenading idle passer-bys. What a tired spring I was in. What a disheartening this day was, droning me into idle sleep whilst time furtively passed me by.

The clock ticked and next I knew my door suspiciously opens with an unknown silhouette, inquiring for my presence. "Mademoiselle you have visitors. Shall I let them in?" asked Isabelle. She fretfully stays behind the protection of the massive door, her fingers clutching rather strongly.

* * *

Hours passed and the Poulains visited me. Our time together was terse and yet rather delightful, but it seems with the health of my newborn child all tensions were severed and our jovial sentiments were rejuvenated. I was too weary to cherish the brevity of our little reunion and Akira's introverted temperament didn't prompt anymore trivialities. There was no other sentimentality which called for a longer visit.

Spring was rather lethargic. The days progressed without sporadic temperature changes or assistance from the clouds. The cerulean skies looked derelict and yet apathetic to its uncharacteristic loneliness. The ambience was quite dull and quiescent all throughout as I was left by myself with the baby. My thoughts began to meander to the very person it has been fixated on: Sesshoumaru. Where was he? What was he doing? What's he thinking of? These frivolous questions would tenaciously resonate in my mind for weeks, lost in my own cupidity.

One fainéant day, I took it upon myself to take out the new carriage (a humble gift bestowed by Sesshoumaru) for a walk with the somnolent infant. It would've been lucrative to let him experience and bask in the aurous ambience of spring with its effervescent, and yet dulcet pleasures. I began with the immense botanical garden situated in the fields behind my mansion. Its pulchritudinous enclosure was veiled by walls of green leaves and vines, acting as a gatekeeper to my esoteric Garden of Eden. I've heard much about it from Sesshoumaru as well as the maids. It, apparently, is a scene of absolute pulchritude, in which even the most illustrious of words could not heed its true caliber to justice. Of course, with such a dull spring day, I looked forward to seeing it. Perhaps it would provide solace from the mundane inanities of my inactive opulent life.

I began my terse trek as I approached the fenced gate of the garden. The path was laden with cobblestone and bushes of larkspurs and marigolds. Rows of narcissus bordered the cobblestone path in the most intricate of arrangements. Upon entrance, I found a latent yet unexpressed awe at the beauteous sight. Indescribable yet simple, I could not express how jovial and simultaneously beautiful it all was. Varieties of flowers, nuanced with color, protruded from every patch of ground in the garden with the exception of the cobble stone path. The arrangement of their foundations were made so that they harmoniously stood amongst other flowers, vying for the attention of the visitor's eye yet living in placid equanimity. There were rows of ruby, columns of sapphire, and squares of emerald… The incongruity of colors paradoxically blended into a fine idyllic scene, as if personified from the most illustrious of poems, in which they emulated the radiance and splendor of rare, lapidarian jewels.

Akira and I stopped briefly in the center of the garden, where a majestic fountain of marble continuously poured pristine water, flowing back and forth in its ivory infrastructure. The fountain was pure pallid marble, with concentric levels. The bottom basin was gilded with picturesque images of angels and fruits, prancing around in their own dimension. I simply sat on the ground holding Akira as I basked in the scene before me. The sun reflected luminously in the flowing water, as if it sparkled real gold in its flowing basins. I want to stay here forever, and to stare in awe in my own visual reverie.

My own thoughts were interrupted as I heard approaching footsteps brush against the grass. I turned my head immediately to the source of sound and found the unlikeliest and most detestable of men. "What are you doing here?" I coldly inquired. It seemed as if our every encounter turned into a frigid interrogation.

Naraku smirked as he stopped before me. "My lady, I was told you would be found here. Couldn't a friend drop by for a greeting? It's been weeks since I've last seen you." I ignored his banter and continued looking on at the gardens, which was ubiquitously filled with spectacular sceneries. _What a friend you are!_ My sardonic mind continued deriding him. I couldn't forget that he had divulged to Sayuri of our unforgivable escapade before I realized I was pregnant. "Are you upset my dear mademoiselle? Perhaps you long for your master?" He continued on his jocularity, oh so exuberantly raining on my parade.

"If you wanted to ruin my time here, you've accomplished it. Can you please go?" I glared at him, giving him the most spiteful of glares one could ever give.

"Don't be so cold," he sternly replied, adopting a more serious mask. He stood adjacent to the carriage and peered at the awakened baby, his eyes curiously meandering at the foreign environment. "He's grown a lot in these few weeks, but looks a lot like you. Funny, I expected Sesshoumaru's child to be the mirror image."

I stood and pulled the carriage more to my side, snatching my child before he could give him anymore devious and sinister stares. "If you're being spiteful that it's not yours, well I'm sorry to rain on your parade as you have done to mine." I made for my departure and was about to walk away until he uttered a truly rancorous remark.

"Yes I'm sure I would love to have fathered the bastard of a childish whore. But of course, my one and only dear friend, whose wants and needs are wholly pleased by another woman mind you, was given the pleasure." The enigmatic man was full of sadistic wants and pleasures. In fact, I'm _sure_ it was his life's aspiration to wreak pain and unendurable discomfiture to those around him. He grinned on, knowing that he had picked on a rather sensitive nerve, triggering a series of volatile reactions with his opprobrium.

I immediately turned and marched up to him. His Machiavellian eyes and grin all watched up at me, who remained before him, indignant and begrudged. One more second of his disquieting stare and I slapped my hand across his face. I knew that he did not expect it, at all, nor did he ever dream of experiencing it. His expression remained stoic, but his eyes… they deceived him. Right away I saw their appalled gleam, disgusted and shocked.

But right before I could withdraw my hand from the stale air, he instantaneously snatched it, and an icy shudder soon emanated within my bones. His Herculean hold strangled the life out of my arm, feeling the squeezing pain of his growing anger. I pleaded with my hurt eyes for him to release me, to end this indecorous affair. But he lingered on, glaring with the most ominous of eyes, the pupils gleaming with scarlet and fury. His resentment eerily permeated throughout the atmosphere. Suddenly, the beauty and joviality of the garden vanished, as if an ethereal entity wallowing away into nothingness. Everything was dark and foreboding, the reality becoming a macabre dream.

"Let go me-…"

"-I came here bearing news for your insolent self!" he interrupted, hushing my feeble voice into the recesses of my throat. "Sesshoumaru and Sayuri are to be married in this coming weekend. Don't look for him. Don't inquire of him. Don't you make any move that will ruin everything." His harangue was stern and petrifying. I stood there mortified, numb from all emotion but fear. I was no longer an autonomous individual with an autonomous body. I was merely a creature caught in his infuriated web. I cowered under him, shaking and debilitated. Seconds stretched as far as they could in this space and time. It was as if it barely crawled, letting me endure more of this unprecedented fit of rage. For a moment, it seemed as if a cloud passed over us, casting a lugubrious shadow upon the vicinity. And once the shadow passed and the cloud made way for the sun, Naraku let go of my hand, but not without exerting all his force in throwing it down so that I was pushed to the ground. I gasped and recollected my senses as I felt my back hit the stone ground. For the moment my body was indifferent to the pain and shock. I was concerned with the latent horrors within the man before me. His equivocal countenance became more and more frightening.

I could not articulate my emotions at all. They were in a whirlpool of fright, anxiety, depression, fear, and loathing. I merely looked at him, giving a stare which inquired the question of all questions. _Why?_ Why had he hurt me? Why did he dare hurt me in every possible way there was? What did I ever do to deserve his mendacious and yet tumultuous actions? Not only was his willpower to hurt me perturbing, but the news he brought became even more disquieting as it seeped in my palliated mind.

Within a second, it seemed as if Naraku's extemporaneous fit of anger evanesced, soon forgotten, as he recollected himself and returned with a more expressionless demeanor. This time however, he had no contrivances up his sleeve and he looked at me, as if he was sincerely contrite. In a minute he offered his hand, and I grudgingly accepted. When I was back on my own feet, I cautiously withdrew farther from here and closer to my baby carriage, turning my back onto him. "Please leave me be," I whispered. I could not remember the last time I was frightened to those extents. Perhaps long ago, to the time when I was an orphan and under the carnival master's care, when he would intermittently wreak all havoc and abuse as a way to vent the inevitable. But I never expected it from a man like Naraku, who as furtive and contriving as he is, seemed more like a gentleman in terms of handling a tenacious woman.

As I was about to take a step forward, he placed a tender hand on my shoulder. Initially I was scared and ready to evade whatever pain he was willing to inflict. But he showed no sign of hostility. Instead he lingered there with his hand on my shoulder. Then, very slowly, he turned me around to face his apologetic eyes and cupped my cold cheeks. It was such a startle seeing him so meager and unlike himself. He always seemed so proud and egocentric that he felt he was above repentance. At that point, I had no idea as to what to expect. The day and its transpirations were so bizarre that it soon felt like a dream, vague and amorphous.

"Do not waste your time, lamenting over him. You're very young and above this whole scandal." His words echoed in my memory, like the words of a ghostly soothsayer. But as soon as I could take in all that was happening before me, he ambled away dejectedly, and the eerie air soon disappeared, like a nightmare ending with the eyes awakening to the sunshine of morning.

* * *

I had a lot to contemplate that evening, but more brooding than contemplating. First off, I witnessed a side to Naraku I dare not describe or even try to remember. The austerity and brevity of the situation left me vulnerable and utterly shocked. Second, there was Sesshoumaru's imminent wedding to that dreadful woman. Although I knew it was inevitable and soon, I did not acknowledge its coming for a long while and lay in the back of my mind like a benign tumor waiting to degenerate my mind. I was so distraught that I couldn't concentrate or even notice my crying child pleading for me to satiate his thirst. But in the end, a fretful Isabelle took him to the nurse, asking me to rest and rid myself of whatever affliction I was currently under. It was very disheartening and shameful of me to be negligent of my maternal duties, and I had no excuse except for the totally unanticipated bomb mercilessly dropped in my secluded oasis. I just simply couldn't believe any of it.

I decided to sleep my worries away. Although most wouldn't recommend such a method, it seemed like the appropriate remedy, for it was quick to numb the throbbing anguish parasitically growing in my heart. But later in the night, I received another uninvited guest. His clandestine efforts to trespass were all easily seen, for although I was fast asleep, I readily woke to his presence, the very man I had yearned for all this time.

When I turned over my bedside to greet him, he placed a finger on my mouth to hush the inquisition. In the darkness of my chambers, I could still see the full moon shedding its pallid, ivory light upon his face. However, the light showed me more than I had expected. For that night his face seemed worried. There was nothing in his expression which revealed so, but I could see the lassitude in his once illusive, amber eyes. They had a listless gleam, as if sick with indolence and yearning for a cure to his weary plight. I sat up from the bed and cupped his cold face with my tender hands, amiably gazing at him. "What's the matter?" He, in turn, took hold of my hands, his rough and frigid skin caressing my warmth. His touch disheartened me even more. It felt like he _needed_ my warmth. What indeed was the matter?

Sesshoumaru merely continued gazing listlessly. "Nothing. Don't worry." He sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do. The man before me was so unlike the perfect, charismatic man I knew. He became the antithesis of the man who seemed wholly incapable of feeling and melancholy. _Something_ obviously happened. But I wondered if it was connected to Naraku. Both were quite different, hiding under a whole new persona.

"Naraku visited me today… He told me…" my words choked as I began to sob. I did not mean to choke in my own tears, let alone shed them. What had overcome me was unknown, but I was suddenly swept with despondent dejection and sadness. I dolefully embraced him, uncaring whether or not he wanted me to, hiding my tears on his stalwart chest. "You're getting married…" I whispered harshly. We both knew that the day was to come, whether it was soon or not. And he was fully aware that I knew, but somehow he was able to empathize. It was as if I was completely transparent and he sensed the grief I was drowning myself in. As if there weren't enough surprises, I was overcome with scorn, begrudging him of my plight. "How could you come back?! Knowing all this? How could you?! Coming in here… as if I didn't care at all when you knew I did… You know I don't want you to! But you tease me… coming back here and giving me false hope!" I broke from his embrace and faced my back towards him, giving him an extremely cold and distasteful shoulder. All my rancor and resentment poured into my tears as I cried in my own little corner, mourning that which I couldn't prevent.

All the raucous of my sobs woke the Akira from his innocent slumber, crying a louder cry than mine, angry that I dare wake him with my own trifles and predicaments. I quickly rubbed my face dry and rose from the bed, leaving Sesshoumaru by himself, deep in a rather disconsolate reverie. I carried Akira and cradled him in my arms, falling under my maternal trance and was quick to withdraw in another bout of tranquility and sleep. I kissed his soft hair and gently returned him to his own cradle, gazing for a moment at how serene he was compared to his emotionally tumultuous parents. I almost envied him for having been shielded from the callous talons of reality.

"He's almost a month old now, right?" Sesshoumaru asked. I turned and nodded tersely, returning my attention to the dormant baby. I could feel Sesshoumaru's gaze at my back, his emotions emanating upon my skin as if I was being caressed by his watchful eye. "I've been a negligent father," he said rather disappointedly. He walked up next to the cradle and gazed along with me, brushing the palm of his hand against our son's head.

"You've been busy. It's alright." I assured him with ingenuous remarks, but he sensed their lacking in altruism. I distanced myself from him, facing the window and basking in the darkness shed by the night sky, scarcely dotted by stars, but they were bright and luminous nonetheless. Sesshoumaru approached me, turning me towards him to make the statement he had been trying. "I had to see you tonight. That's why."

With that simple sentence, all my suffering was alleviated and my questions answered. At that moment I didn't care anymore if it made sense for him to spontaneously visit me in times of need, despite his imminent wedding. Although we both knew that my status as his concubine would remain even after his nuptial solemnities, somehow we felt that the affair would be constrained and he would be forced to focus more on a legitimate family he would soon start with Sayuri. But all was swept away and for this moment, I forgave him. I absolved his sins, for now, and I let him kiss me with all the passion that lay hidden within him since we last met.

We made love that night, and it was very ardent and sincere. Once we were done, I obstinately refused to sleep, for fear of him absconding without my knowledge. We both lay there, still and content as we gazed at the ceiling somnolently. In the moment of our peace, Sesshoumaru began to utter incoherent words, but with graces bestowed upon me, I heard him.

"After all these years, I remembered you. After all this time, I still had to see you, and I couldn't avoid you."

I didn't know exactly what he was saying or what he meant by those vague words. Their meanings were esoteric only to him. But I felt certain there was an affinity made and somehow I could relate. I echoed to him a poem I once read in the library of the mansion. It was spontaneous and unexpected but I felt it appropriate to the inscrutable meaning of his words.

"_To see a World in a Grain of Sand_

_And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,_

_Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand _

_And Eternity in an hour."_

Sesshoumaru gave me an inquisitive look, but said nothing. I'm sure he knew what I meant and where it originated, but he ignored me. In the darkness, our eyes were welcomed to much-desired and much-needed sleep, closing slowly as to cherish what was left of the moment. Right before I could close my eyes into utter darkness and embrace slumber, I whispered to his ear, "That is how I feel when I am with you." And in a short moment I fell victim to my weary body and dreamt, for tonight needed a dream to be remembered, a dream to walk and cherish for the road ahead was turbulent and despondent. That was where my future lay.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

**A/N:** That last bit of poetry at the end was an excerpt from William Blake's poem, Auguries of Innocence. The chapter title was taken from the first line, but I turned it into French. I hope this chapter wasn't too fluffy or boring. Enjoy and read.


	13. The Butterfly Lovers

**Author's Note: **I know, I know… -_- I'm so SORRY! I just lost interest… Recently though I re-read some fanfiction and thought, "Hey, I still have some pretty good ideas!" So this is why, after two years, I decided it'd be a good time to try and finish this wonderful story, and to start a new one (called Little Mermaid). This will be my attempt to finish a story, and its direction might change from what I wanted two years ago. I kind of forgot what my plan was. I'm sorry if I let up some contradictions. I can't bear to re-read my work with all of its typos!

**Important note: Somewhere in the chapter, Rin will start having dialogue flash backs. These are marked with italicized dialogue.**

* * *

**Chapter 13: The Butterfly Lovers**

_I was his muse, his heart, his soul. I was the crux of his sins, and the thundering wave of his passion. I was the guilt that welled in his solemn heart, lamenting the plight of our carnal wants, and our immoral desires. I loved this man with all my heart. My tears were lugubrious and imploring. I wanted him to love me as well._

_But I was a mere shadow, a wraith ethereal and lost. I was meant to wander, despondent and alone. When I stole what was his, I lost all that was mine. I had become the death of a new life; the thief who stole away his waning light._

My thighs ached, sore and renewed. I breathed deep, gaining back much of my energy. Sesshoumaru stood by corner of the bed post, dressing himself once more and preparing to leave me.

"When will I see you again?" I asked. I sat up, my body naked and cold. I brushed away the bed sheets and the blankets, hoping to tempt him with my nubile form. The pregnancy brought changes to my body in more ways than one. I was fuller now. My thighs became curvaceous, smooth and aglow, and my hips widened, emulating the shape of an hourglass. My skin felt softer and burned with warmth. Sesshoumaru had called it "motherly warmth." His favorite change however was with my breasts. They grew twice as big and were even softer, suppler. When we make love, Sesshoumaru "grabs" the opportunity whenever he could to play with them, and often times I have to ask him to stop. They ached with milk and become sore with its weight. I didn't need his hands kneading them.

I didn't want him to leave, my handsome lover. He was all that was perfect to me.

Sesshoumaru remained silent, busying himself in front of the mirror and fixing his tie. His visit was sudden and unexpected. Sesshoumaru's wedding was in a fortnight (it was delayed from its previous date), and our trysts were meant to be on hiatus for more than two months. Lately however, I grew accustomed to his sporadic visits and let him unleash his prurient needs. I could sometimes see weariness in my lover's eyes. The amber was a shade darker, losing much of its vivacious shimmer. It was a vulnerability that worried me. He was my perfect man, fearless and callous. How could he look so frail when gazing into my eyes?

"I'll come to you when I return from the honey moon."

My lips curled into a pout, and I retreated back under the sheets, hugging my disconsolate self. "Are you going to spend time with your son before you leave?" I asked rather coldly. Sesshoumaru turned a little at me, raising a brow at my resentful imploring. When he finished fixing his suit, he approached me, almost crawling on the bed, and placed an emotionless kiss on my forehead. He was a heartless man attempting to be affectionate, and it amused me somewhat to know he cared.

"Take good care of him," he whispered into my ear, and with those words he left. The door closed with a bang, and the noise rang in my ears for what seemed like an eternity.

For days now, the world was changing around me. While I remained trapped in my Lilliputian bubble, everybody else was too busy preparing for _her_ wedding. The flowers need to be arranged, the invitations made, the caterers hired…

I felt alone. Versailles was buzzing all around me while I busied myself with the quotidian humdrum of motherhood and small housekeeping duties.

A soft knock came on the door.

"Come in," I chimed as I quickly put on a gown. Isabelle came in with a cart carrying my lunch.

"Mademoiselle," she curtsied. She left the meal before me as she went about replacing the bed sheets while I ate my lunch by the window.

"How are the wedding preparations?" I asked nonchalantly. I took the corn bread from its silver plate and tore out small pieces.

Isabelle looked me in the corner of her eye as she made the bed, her vulture eye always bulging with consternation. "Um…" she stammered. She knew what the wedding meant for me, and how I felt about it in return. The small talk unnerved her without a doubt, and she seemed to remain speechless for her safety's sake.

I ignored the girl and stared down at my chest when I began to notice the leak. My lips curled to a frown when I noticed by gown was wet with milk. The habitual aching of my breasts always foretold such an event, but it gives me so little time to react.

"Bring me Akira."

Isabelle immediately ceased her chore and obsequiously rushed to the nursery room. She came back within an instant, carrying the dormant infant. The baby boy was slowly growing into himself at four months old. His cheeks developed, though still round with baby fat, and the expressions he made became mirrored that of his father's. Nothing delighted me more than to help make a son in his father's image.

"Sorry to wake you up, darling." I placed a soft kiss on his forehead, caressing his flimsy cheeks. The baby stirred upon my touch, but he remained content with his dream. I placed him near my right breast, and he instinctively suckled without waking. Akira was an easy baby to please and to take care of. I took pride in every small development he made. These seemingly meaningless idiosyncrasies are a sure sign of his prodigious future.

While feeding him, I thought of life for me and my child. It seemed so tentative, as if every pebble of hope I had could sink any moment now. That's what life with Sesshoumaru is like – a veritable quicksand. Everything I thought, owned, and held dear would slowly submerge, and before I knew it, it was gone. Even Sesshoumaru himself seemed to escape my grasp. At times I think he would never abandon me, and there are other times when he seemed so distant and guilt-ridden. I knew then, during his morose reveries, that he was thinking of Sayuri. It plagued me to know he thought of another woman while in my company.

As my thoughts drifted, I began to think of Sayuri and everything I knew about her. For a long while, my mind conjured pejorative images of her. She was an evil persona stealing time away, time I could be spending with the father of my child. Even though I had been the other woman, it seemed so wrong that she should cling to this philandering man, especially now that he has his own family.

Things are different now though. I know more. When Naraku first told me of their wedding, I was shocked. It seemed so punctual, to be a weekend later. When Sesshoumaru made the announcement to delay it however, Sayuri quickly marched to me – the object of her hatred.

I hated her. She had done nothing but show disdain and loathing, something which I assumed were her feelings towards herself projected onto me. I had been the thief, according to her. I was the whore.

When I begged Sesshoumaru to leave her, to call off the wedding, he frowned. It was a dismal frown, one which bore sadness beyond his years. He wouldn't talk of why the question would rekindle such disquieting, bitter emotions.

"_Never ask anything of me in regards to Sayuri," he commanded._

"_But, why? It's not fair!"_ I was acting like a petulant child, vaguely trying to rationalize my distress to an unyielding parent. _"Give me my life back then! Give it back!"_ I cried.

The exchange still left me sour, like a grudge gnawing and spreading like a cancer in the back of my mind. Sesshoumaru was content enough to pretend we never had the argument, but I learned to keep quiet when Isabelle told me their secret.

"_Madame Sayuri," _Isabelle's plaintive tone was evident. The same sadness that emanated from Sesshoumaru surged its way out of Isabelle's voice. Everything became somber and bleak upon the utterance of her name. _"She and the master had grown up together, and went to school even. When the master finally took up his ambitions, Sayuri was prepared to stand aside and have her future with a different man – a man who would be willing to settle down. But…"_ Isabelle's voice shook with the remembrance. Although her stutter and consternation marked her, I knew then that her voice shook not from some pathological apprehension, but of a grief so enervating that she could not bring herself to relive those moments of pain. _"She became with child… their first child. It was such a surprise for both, and at first neither of them could decide what course to take. The young mistress was vigilant however. She goaded the young master to pursue his dreams while she stood aside in a loveless engagement borne from an illegitimate child. And when time came…"_

my heart ached just remembering the story once more.

"_The young mistress was always ill of health. She had been sickly since she was a babe. Even before the birthing, she was often sent to the hospital because of the baby. Despite all their hoping, and praying, the young mistress gave birth to a still born – a baby boy. Ever since, their engagement had been put on hold, and there's a strain between the couple. Maybe, perhaps, this is why the master holds on to her. He still wonders what life they could have had."_

It vexed me to think that I easily could have been her. I easily could have lost my son to forces unknown and unstoppable. Sayuri's past bothered me for more reasons than one, however. It made me wonder whether Sesshoumaru sees me as the mother of his only child, Rin; or maybe he sees the young woman he first fell in love with – his Sayuri before their still born. Maybe I was just a replacement, lost in a world she could never have and I could never truly exist in. Vicariously, Sesshoumaru placed the hopes he had in the past onto me and the son he always wanted.

* * *

I was standing in a room, a big room. Though it was dark, I could feel the capacious void all around me. Shadows, crawled all over, were so thick my eyes could not pierce them. I could not see through them. When I looked around I saw nothing, and when I looked up I was blinded. It was a spotlight in the shape of a moon, a solemn crescent so pale in luminous ivory, and I could feel it shining down upon me.

Before I knew it, I heard music: a waltz.

_One two three… one two three…_

My feet followed the beat, displaying a grace I never knew I had, and my arms swayed with the melody, tracing its sonorous flow. I felt my heart beating faster and faster, emulating the accelerando. My whole body felt so light, and as I danced, I flitted about the dark room, meandering endlessly, drowning myself in the light air.

"May I have this dance?" A hand materialized from the shadows, and soon a silhouette, dark crimson eyes stepped forward. I obliged a curtsy and took his hand, letting his dexterous movements sweep me in off my feet. Together, we waltzed for what seemed like hours, our movements lost in the folds of time as the music embraced us in a warp of gaiety.

At first I was in love. I was happy.

But the waltz became too fast, and I was too tired. I could not catch up. My amorphous partner began to leave me, his ruby eyes gleaming darker each time I missed a step.

"Wait," I whispered. The moment I spoke, he let go of my hand and my waist. I spiraled down onto the floor, gasping for air. I hadn't noticed how tired I was until the air became heavy, like it was cumbersome to breathe.

"Let me dance again," I pleaded. I grabbed for his hand, but it evanesced into black wisps vanishing with the air. I looked for him everywhere, but he was gone. I was left alone again under the pallid light, waiting for my turn.

* * *

My eyes opened and closed, groggy from the weight of sleep. _It was just a dream…_ I had fallen asleep feeding Akira, who remained in his slumberous peace in my arms. I looked outside and noticed nightfall had come upon Versailles. Everything was dark save for the glimmer of the stars.

"Let me in…"

I heard muffled voices outside. One was distinctly Isabelle. I could tell she was barring entrance from an unwanted visitor.

"Please monsieur, it's late. The mistress needs her rest."

I sat up, placing Akira gently in the middle of the bed. I laced my night gown, trying to appear presentable and sorted out knots in my hair. I stood upright, waking the senses of my body from its lethargic daze. _I wonder if it's Sesshoumaru,_ I wondered excitedly.

I cracked open the door, making sure to prevent any light to reach Akira, and clandestinely slipped away out into the hallway.

"Who is it?" I asked. Isabelle jumped at the sound of me, and turned, shocked to see me in the flesh. She bowed and nervously recollected herself.

"Monsieur Naraku, Mademoiselle."

My eyes glowered at the sight of him. He stood there, with his devious grin, gazing at me for what seemed like an eternity. He had his business suit on, a sure sign that he had just finished work with Sesshoumaru, and the faint smell of wine lingered in his presence. This was a bad sign.

"I'm sorry to call upon you in this late hour," he politely bowed, as one is culturally expected to in Japan. His smile withdrew into an expressionless mask as he studied me further. "But may I say, for a woman who just woke, you look ravishing."

I pouted at his flattery, furrowing my eye brows in disgust. "What do you want?" My voice was stern, disallowing any small talk or pointless intrigue. If he was to deal with me, he better be straight forward.

"I was wondering if you would join me for dinner," he smiled gracefully at his request, acting with chivalrous manners. There was something about his eyes, and how fixed they were on me that was eerie. They seemed like the eyes of a beast, hungry and voracious for some prey.

"Isabelle, take Akira back to the nursery. And when you're done, bring my guest his dinner. We will dine in my room." I looked at Isabelle, who nodded obediently to my orders and went on her way. When she had left the premises with the sleeping baby, I turned my attention back at the enigmatic man, patiently awaiting my command.

"Monsieur, you will have to excuse me. I'm afraid I'm not presentable at the moment. If you would wait outside my room…"

"The pleasure is all mine," he snidely cut me off. Naraku's eyes were incandescent almost, burning with embers slowly strengthening with each word he uttered. I ignored this all and went back into my room. Whatever plan he had in store, I did not care for. I'm sure it was nothing compared to my own scheme.

I quickly dressed, picking out a laced bodice and skirt I had bought soon after I gave birth. It was a dress I intended to use for Sesshoumaru, to tempt him in times of my need, but this time it will have to serve Naraku. I eyed myself in the mirror as I wore it. It was a silken dress – a deep crimson, redder than blood. The lace hugged my waist, making it smaller and suppler to the eye. I brushed my hair, curling a few stray locks and letting them fall upon my bare shoulders. I added rouge to my lips, another sultry color deep with red. As a finishing touch, I dipped my finger in rose petal perfume, and caressed my neckline with the scent. I was a rose abloom.

When I had finished, Naraku soundlessly entered. It was as if he was watching me this whole time, and he knew when to make his mysterious entrance. I frowned at his cavalier behavior, but ignored it once more. Everything will have to serve.

He made himself at home on a recliner by the bed. He leaned back against the velvet cushions as he stared at me, breathing in my fragrance and designs. "You're very beautiful. If I didn't know any better…"

"Why did you really come tonight?" I interrupted. I made sure to speak slowly, temptingly. I sat on the edge of my bed, crossing my legs so as to let my hips bend against my waist. I could feel his eyes tracing my curves, watching my chest heave with every breath I took.

"If I answer your question truthfully, will you explain yourself?"

I nodded, my eyes intent on the prize.

He chuckled politely, bemused by my wanton conduct. I rose to proffer him some wine, red vintage hidden under my bed in case Sesshoumaru had a thirst during his visits. Naraku drank it with delight, while never letting his eyes rest from their fixed gaze on me. Like Sesshoumaru, he took a liking to my breasts, which were bunched up in my bodice to display a healthy cleavage.

"Believe me when I say mademoiselle," he began, gulping down the rest of his wine, "that I never stopped desiring you since that day. You were so innocent then. I look for the opportune moments to make my visits."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat now knowing how his intentions worked in concert with mine. "It doesn't bother you that I belong to your best friend?"

He leaned back against the couch, baffled by my reply. "My dear, Sesshoumaru or no, you are your own woman. I never once forced myself on you. You made the choice as well."

There was a long silence after his response. I knew then that he waited for _my_ answer, and I hesitantly gave it.

"You said I'm not allowed in the wedding."

Naraku remained silent, waiting for me to finish.

I felt uncomfortable. Somehow this plan was working too well, and I felt suddenly ashamed by what I had been contriving. "You would be right if you said I do not deserve to be in the wedding, but I feel…"

"You feel you must go, for the sake of the man you love." He smiled as he finished my sentence, his devious expression now luminous with glee.

"He shouldn't marry her." The sentence escaped my lips when it never should have. My eyes averted his when I suddenly opened up my vulnerability. I took another long pause, trying to collect myself, but I couldn't. I couldn't go through with it.

Naraku remained silent, never betraying his true thoughts or emotions to the onus of the stifling atmosphere. He carried himself in an indifferent air, as if he was toying with me all along.

"I want to go," my eyes watered, letting the vixen I had conjured to vanish with my stifled tears. I was Rin again, afraid and alone.

Naraku rose from his seat, walking slowly towards me. My hands instinctively carried me further into the bed, seeking shelter in the sea of blankets, but he encroached further. He stood on all fours, my torso between his hands as he kneeled on the bed on top of me. I hadn't noticed we had gotten to this point.

"Give me what I want, and you will get what you desire."

I blinked back tears, trying hard to appear apathetic and strong, but the Machiavellian man saw through everything, and before I knew it one of his hands was slowly unlacing my bodice.

"Pull out this time," I whispered. He looked into my eyes, the scarlet orbs ardent with lust. I was trapped in his gaze and all I could do was stare back in acrimony. His lips were nuzzling the side of my neck, rubbing his face against my hair as if it was precious silk.

"Whatever my lady desires."

He entered forcefully, breaking into my hips in violent pursuit. Despite his roughness, however, I felt no pain, only a gnawing pang of regret. I had let him use me again. His thrusts were quick and hard, and his hands deftly caressed all parts of my body. When he came, my body too relaxed with his, and I soon felt relieved of his weight. I left him on the bed, paralyzed with pleasure, while I quickly fixed my hair and wiped off the makeup.

Naraku gasped in delight, spreading himself all over the bed. When he had finished relaxing himself, he swiftly sat up and began dressing himself."I will pick you up on the day of the wedding. You will be my consort. Do not reveal to anyone your relations with Sesshoumaru, and you won't attract attention. You are there to spectate, and if you must, converse with Sesshoumaru in private so as to not make a debacle of it all."

He left before I could even nod in agreement. I slept the rest of the night cold and alone, feeling guilt over what I had done again. _Whatever it takes_. This repeated sin was necessary. This time, however, it will be to _my_ advantage.


	14. BONUS CHAPTER: Sesshoumaru

**A/N:** This is a bonus chapter written in Sesshoumaru's perspective. It is not important or pertinent to the main storyline, but I figured, might explain more about this enigmatic antihero.

* * *

**Brief Tales from the Past: Sesshoumaru**

Ever since mother died, I knew no woman could take her place in my heart.

All sorts of people came for her funeral. People of distant relations, people of little interest… They were all there swarming in pretended grief, paying respects to a nonentity in their lives. I was beside myself then. I didn't care why there were so many insects waiting to feed on carrion. I was too busy _not_ mourning. I was too busy _not_ being there.

"Serves her right."

"She thinks she can bring Gaijin into this family…" (Gaijin stands for "foreigner" or "alien")

"Disgusting… her scandal."

"And her father is such an honorable man."

The flies behind the shoji screen doors buzzed and buzzed, and their whispers were deafening. I sat there like an empty shell, wishing I could be as still and peaceful as my mother looked – dead on her futon.

My father was absent through all this, hiding from those he hated, from those whom he shunned and was shunned by in return. People, my grandfather in particular, saw it as a sign of weakness that he would confine himself at such grievous times. However, I'm sure as my father was that his presence would not have made a difference. There'd still be the ambient enmity from the family which wrongly holds him culpable for my mother's natural death.

They called it karma. I called it ignorance.

"We should step outside, Sesshoumaru-san."

Sayuri sat in her own corner, away from the cadaver and tucked away as a silhouette drowned in shadows. Her mourning kimono was beautiful against her pale complexion. She seemed so pristine and elegant, contrasted with the smooth black silk and its ornamented camellias – appropriately so while in bereavement.

I ignored her and continued to stare at the futon. The thick smell of embalm permeated the air, but I soon grew accustomed to it. Death had a very clean smell to it, a scent which purified the rot of life.

The timid girl drew closer, and I noticed from the corner of my eye, that her hand reached out from behind me. Her gaze left an unwelcome chill down my spine, and I knew then she was trying to console me, to warm my frozen tears.

"My father wants to return to France," I said suddenly. My mind wasn't even dwelling on that thought. How did the news escape my lips without so much as a mental effort?

Sayuri drew back to her corner, discouraged by my news of departure. Somehow, I could sense the tears welling in her eyes. It wasn't so much as an indication of forlornness, but a sign of consignment. _"I'll stand by your side,"_ she seemed to say, though her mouth remained still and silent. _"I'll protect you."_

When Sayuri at least, choked out a sob, I stirred at her plaintive bewilderment. She was sad beyond grief, in more pain than I was. I didn't know why though. She was never close to my mother, and she had always maintained a distance between the two of us – an emotional gap I could never breach.

Her tears soundlessly fell with ease, and it was then I knew that the young woman had lost the will to wail. It tugged at my heart somehow, and brought my mind to race in non-sequitur. "I had a dream."

She looked up and woke from her sorrowful trance. Sayuri was always fond of dreams. Interpreting them was her forte. It wasn't so much a skill as much as it was her passion. Clairvoyance piqued her soul in ways I could not imagine.

"I saw a little girl. She was playing on a bridge. She seemed lost, and I wanted to help her. But I was lost too."

The air was heavy with words unsaid, and Sayuri, for once, was speechless and dumbfounded. I didn't know why I was divulging this dream, especially in the presence of my mother's remains. I should be in grief. Even Sayuri was doing a better job in her sincerity.

"In the dream," I continued. My voice was deadpan, mechanical. Something compelled me to tell this story, and somehow I knew, I would feel better once I finished. "I was an older man in that dream. Maybe in my twenty's. I'm not quite sure. I just knew I wanted to guide her back."

My voice drifted, ending in a low cadence of hushed tones and unspoken whispers. Sayuri just sat there absorbing my intriguing spell. _The embalm smells must be getting to me…_

"You must guide yourself back first, Sesshoumaru-san." And with those words, she rose and embraced me. I remained sitting, staring at my dead mother as I felt her lithe figure wrap itself around my cold shoulders. My back felt her feathery weight. I wanted to embrace her too, and to share with her warmth I knew she longed for.

But how am I to share warmth I didn't have? How am I to open my heart to a woman I did not love? It was all lost on me that day, that day of mourning. Melancholy was a solemnity to be honored, but the flies outside buzzed raucously, and soon I was drowned in their hunger. I had to leave, and it was all I could ever do.


	15. La Valse Sentimentale

**Chapter 14: La Valse Sentimentale**

_When I look at my youngest son, I wonder about my own days as an infant babe. I wonder how my own mother felt when she held me, when she felt my skin and if she thought one affectionate touch would be enough to shatter the life she lugubriously made. Did she love me as I love my children? Did she have good intentions and hopes that somehow my future is radiant and fruitful, and that I would be in happiness's tender embrace?_

_Or did she cry? Did she know that before contentment, there must be pain, and before happiness there must be unrelenting sorrow? Did she lament her selfishness for having birthed a child in a world of imperfections and ubiquitous vices? Did she know that all my life I would walk in the shadow of grief with only the lonely winter moon as my beacon of transient hope? Why then, in god's name, did she become a mother?_

* * *

It was a sad cliché. I'm a princess trapped in her own castle. To preserve his dignity, I wasn't allowed to be seen or heard of. My child and I existed in a narrow chasm within Sesshoumaru's life. It was dark and abysmal, derelict and in all ways humiliating. In retrospect, all my actions seem so selfish and monstrous. But what was I to do? Here I am, in this lovely mid August morning, trapped behind the pristine glass of an encroaching window. The world is before me, so close, but unreachable.

Naraku never kept in touch after that night, neither did I pursue him. He was a businessman by heart, and if I were to make anymore inquiries, he would undoubtedly expect something in return.

I looked in the mirror. The woman was not me.

"Tres jolie, mademoiselle." Isabelle tugged at the laces, sewing them tighter to the hem. Her fingers wove themselves through the laces of my corset, weaving them in tight ribbons as I felt my ribs choking in its satin death.

Outside, the sun was beaming and radiant, its golden rays seeping through the window in waves of yellow and white. I could feel the mirror illuminated with its pallid light, allowing me to bask in the beauty of a strange woman, who looked strangely just like me.

"I look old," I stated. I wore no expression on my face. Instead I had an anonymous mask devoid of humanly response. The dress was so uncomfortable.

"Not old, no." Isabelle smiled at me, proud of her creation. Though she remained somewhat modest and silent, I could tell that her heart was bursting with pride. She achieved to make a porcelain doll out of me, an old porcelain china doll. "Elegant mademoiselle. You are sophisticated, no longer a girl, but a woman."

I turned away from the mirror and bore into Isabelle's limpid eyes, a crystal blue I had never noticed before. Isabelle was too busy lost in a trance, and I could tell she was imagining me in her crimson dress, ostentatiously waltzing in a grandiose ballroom.

"I can't wear this in the wedding," I protested. My fingers traced the waistline, feeling the smooth patterns encircle my bodice. The silk was as soft as a lilac's petal, creamy and tantalizing. Ripples flowed down the skirt like flowers surfing on waves of milk and honey. I was shocked at Isabelle's attention to detail. Who knew she had such a beautiful latent talent in dress making?

"Take it off," I commanded. It was a beautiful dress, but the look itself tempted me into a reverie waiting to trap me unaware. I did not look like a vixen, but instead I resembled an enchantress in a paradoxically sultry innocence waiting to lure in wanton men. If I were to don this regalia, I'd attract too much attention and risk Sayuri's tempestuous wrath – not to mention Sesshoumaru's as well.

Isabelle did as I commanded, her fingers fluttering against the lacework. She stared at the buttons, puzzled, as if they suddenly became alien to her. It figures that the woman who wove such a stunning design of silk and satin could not bring herself to unweave it.

"I don't want to attract attention." _Stupid girl_, I thought. How could she not think of these things?

"I'm afraid you'll be receiving more than attention wearing _that_."

I jumped at the sound of Naraku's voice. He stood in the doorway, the familiar gleam in his eyes sending chills down my spine. I quickly disrobed and wore my day gown.

"Don't scare me like that," I grumbled. The past couple of weeks, I've been surreptitiously sampling some of Isabelle's creations: ball gowns, evening gowns, cocktail dresses. It was formality galore! However, I had to be wary of Sesshoumaru's intermittent visits, which were mostly in the evening thankfully. As the days approached the wedding, he would come less and less. At least I didn't have to be too careful.

As soon as Naraku stepped in, Isabelle glued her head to the floor – her way of showing discretion – and scurried outside of the room. I let out an exasperated sigh as I felt his arms wrap around my waist. "Not today!" I snapped, deflecting his wily fingers with stinging slaps.

He ignored me, and continued clinging to the curves of my body. I was like a fly caught in his web, the more I resisted, the more I was entangled in his shroud of deceit.

"I'm doing you a favor my dear," he whispered into my ear. I could feel his lips nuzzling the back of my neck, and his hands were already wandering in places unwanted.

"I paid you in advance, remember?" I pulled away from him once more and walked across the room, sitting down on the couch, hoping it may give him more obstacles. "Do you like touching your best friend's property?" I asked, warding him off with an acrimonious glare.

Naraku laughed, relaxing himself on my bed. "Do you like bedding your lover's best friend? You've done it twice now."

"Because I had to!"

His laughter bellowed laughter at my rebuttal. I felt desperate each second after. Like a child, I proved myself once more incapable of avoiding degradation. After he had his fill of mockery, he took a deep breath and fixated his eyes on my fragile body. My legs went weak. The spider was scrutinizing his prey, reveling at my misery.

"You never _had_ to my dear. There's no such thing. You chose to be Sesshoumaru's mistress, and now you're regretting it. So what do you do? Cheat your way out?"

I took in his banter in reserved silence. _I will not cry in front of this man._

"As for me," he continued, "I'm fully aware of my actions. Whether they're right or wrong, a moral spectrum doesn't exist for me. To each his own, as they say." He came closer again, kneeling in front of me. His hands grabbed my leg, pushing away the skirt of my gown and planting kisses all over my skin. I blushed at his touch and repelled him once more.

"Not today!"

"Why?" He continued kissing my leg, working his way up my thighs. My heart palpitated, whether from excitement or fear, I didn't know. A warmth emanated from between my thighs, and I could see chest heaving as it gasped for more air.

"Get away from me," I hissed, pulling myself away from him.

"When?"

"After the wedding!"

Naraku stopped, rising from the floor. "Why should I wait?"

I distanced myself again, maintaining a radius of safety where I may leave the room if he dares make another move. "How do I know?" I asked, finding myself in front of the mirror again. I looked bedraggled, different from the sophisticated woman I saw earlier wearing Isabelle's dress. My eyes darkened with circles and my clothes disheveled. _Is this who I truly am?_

"How do you know what?"

I took another deep breath and recollected myself. _I have more poise than this_. "How do I know, if I give myself to you each time you ask, that you will keep your word?" I fixed my stare at the mirror, watching Naraku from the rippled reflection. His eyes were a darker red, and I could sense his frustration.

Endless moments of silence erupted, and the weight of it all rested on my shoulders. The singing larks outside and the whistles of a summer breeze were muted now, and the sunlight was mired by passing clouds of gray. Naraku left, having understood my proposition, and the heavy silence disappeared with him. It was as if life resumed and the birds sang again, happy to be rid of such foreboding ambience.

I was happy, but I cried. He was right. I made a choice each and every time, and I always regret them.

They say love is a poison, a sweet poison, but it will kill you nonetheless. I stood in front of the mirror, hoping to see tears stream down my cheeks as they used to easily do with the Poulain's, but even now they refuse to fall. My heart ached knowing I couldn't express sorrow if I wanted, not anymore at least. When there are no tears, what else does a woman have? I stood there hoping to find the answer.

"Mademoiselle…?" Isabelle stood by the door way, peering around the corner. She wanted to come inside, for god knows what, and awaited my permission.

"You can come in." I resumed staring at the mirror. I still saw no tears. "Isabelle," I called.

She looked up from where she was, leaving a tray of lunch by the French window where I usually take my meals.

"If you love someone, would you do anything to be with them?"

Isabelle puckered her thin lips while simultaneously scrunching up her nose. It was another habit, like the stuttering, that indicated her thought process. I used to be repulsed by these idiosyncrasies, but I've warmed up to them, letting Isabelle find her place in my sentimental heart.

After having thought it out, Isabelle gave a nostalgic expression as if she was recalling fond memories from the recesses of her heart. "If I loved someone, I would do anything to be with them, and even more so that I never hurt them."

I closed my eyes, meditating on Isabelle's words. It was a question of who I loved more.

* * *

I entered the ballroom, imbibing all of its grandeur. I walked, my arms linked with Naraku's, in awe and wonder of the ostentatious elegance before me. The walls of the ballroom were draped with oceans of silk tied decorously over gilded windows letting the vermillion rays of the sunset loom over the red and gold velvet of the palatial room. The ceiling was domed with a crystalline chandelier hanging from its center. The pallid light emanating from the chandelier drowned everyone in ivory shadows as the clamor and chatter of the thousands of guests huddled about in their round tables.

"The ceremony itself will take place there," Naraku pointed across the room where grand double doors opened to a vast peach tree orchard. The blooming petals swayed with the wind as they surrounded the herculean white tend providing shade for a Shinto shrine in the center. All around, butlers and ushers attended to the meandering guests, who all reveled, such as I did, at Sesshoumaru's displayed opulence.

Throughout the morning, Naraku greeted the many guests. As best man, it was part of his responsibility to contribute to the wedding experience. Sometimes, he would leave me tailing after him, walking in his shadow to never attract attention. Other times, he would plead with me to hide in a corner when some of Sesshoumaru's closer acquaintances would stop him and chat.

There would be some women who would stop and flirt with him, dressed in their regal fashion. I settled for a strapless lavender gown, with a thin and humble silken skirt. I covered myself with a shawl of the same shade, complementing my porcelain skin with its summer colors. Even then I felt it was too conspicuous, but in retrospect, the dress was a wise choice. All the other women in the ballroom were appareled glamorously. Some of the women, presumably Japanese, donned grandiose kimonos woven from the finest silk. Their obis were tied with uttermost care and ornamented with flowing camellias of the finest thread.

In a large corner of the room, a chamber orchestra was performing the Blue Danube Waltz by Strauss. Although it served as ambient music, I couldn't help but resist the urge to waltz along with the music. Everything was ethereal, heavenly even, as if it would wither any second. If I were to have a pompous wedding, it would be _this_ wedding.

I continued circling the palatial hall, chained to Naraku's guiding arms.

"You know, the ceremony will be done in Japanese tradition."

I furrowed an eyebrow, confused at what Naraku had just said. What would be the Japanese tradition?

As if reading my mind, he continued without waiting for my reaction. "The bride will be painted white head to toe, with her kimono colored in the same fashion. It is meant to be in declaration to the gods of her chastity." I was amused by the idea that any woman of Sesshoumaru's would remain chaste. Maybe that's why he frequents other women's beds…

"Sayuri will don a wataboshi. Since both her parents are dead, no one will accompany her in the procession, and she must bow to the groom as an act of exchange."

A knot formed in my throat as I heard Sayuri's name. Guilt welled in my chest every second. I was here to ruin her wedding. I was here to ruin her life.

_No, I must not let that deter me. Think of Akira… Think of his future…_

"Where are the bride and groom now?" I asked. I stopped at my tracks, wanting to relax the cumbersome guilt building upon my shoulders.

"Sesshoumaru is in a tent somewhere. The groom's tent should not be far off the processional one. Sayuri, on the other hand, is still in her home, readying herself. She will be dropped off here in time for the procession. Tradition holds it, after all, that the groom doesn't see the bride before the ceremony."

"I want to see Sesshoumaru," I asserted. I let go of his arm, standing firmly before him.

Naraku furrowed a brow, frowning disappointedly. "That wasn't part of the deal. You know you weren't even supposed to be here."

"I just want to talk." I looked into his eyes imploringly. "He never has time to talk when he visits me." I frowned in turn, feeling pathetic at the recollection.

"No."

"Why do you think I came here, if not to see him? You must have known."

He stared, appalled at me, for my insolence. I found myself spotlighted again, and people around us were suspecting the enmity permeating all around.

"I will owe you my life, Naraku."

Naraku scoffed and turned his back, walking away. "Suit yourself."

I took that as my cue, and turned the other way. I pushed my way through the crowd, letting the beat of the waltz guide me through.

"Not today," I whispered to myself.


End file.
